
Class 

Book 

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COPYRIGHT DEPOam 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 



New York of To-day 



BY 



HENRY COLLINS J^ROWN 



Editor of 

Valentine's Manual 




New York 
THE OLD COLONY PRESS 

15-17 East 40th Street 

Anderson Galleries Building 

1917 



Fi... 



J 

SEP 24 1917 



COPYRIGHT, 191 7 

HENRY COLLINS BROWN 

15-17 East 40TH Street, New York 



©a.A47?J6G4 



TO THE STEANGEE 
WITHi:Nr OUE GATES- 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTEK I 
The City ItseK 13 

CHAPTEE II 
Broadway— The Main Street in Our Tillage . 32 

CHAPTER III 
Wall Street— The Best-Known Half Mile in 

the World 62 

CHAPTER IV 
Fifth Avenue — The ISTew Retail Shopping 

District ^^ 

Madison Square and Its Soap-Box Orators . 82 

CHAPTER Y 
Riverside Drive 90 

CHAPTER YI 
The Morris House or Jumel Mansion, Wash- 
ington's Headquarters in Washington 
Heights 107 

CHAPTER YII 

Eamous Churches in New York .... 120 

St. Paul's Chapel 120 

John Street Methodist Church .... 129 

CHAPTER YIII 
Greenwich Yillage 130 

CHAPTER IX 

Places of Historic Interest 142 

Audubon's Home in 'New York .... 156 
New York in pre-Revolutionary Days . . 103 

7 ' 



8 CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTEE X 

IN'ew York's Men of Letters .... 167 

TVashington Irving ...... 167 

Joseph Rodman Drake 175 

Fitz-Greene HaUeck 179 

Edgar AUan Poe . . ... . .182 

Julia Ward Howe 185 

CHAPTER XI 
"Direct from Broadway, Original New York 

Cast" 190 

Cabaret and Restaurants . . ... . 198 

CHAPTER XII 

In :Nrew York 206 

CHAPTER Xm 

What Do You Like About New York? . . 219 

CHAPTER XIV 

The Hispanic Society of America . . . 232 

The Clubs of New York 239 

The Catskill Aqueduct 242 

The Hudson River, an Adjunct of the City. . 246 

A Curious Book About Old New York . . 253 

New York in the Great World War of 1917 . 257 

CHAPTER XY 

How to See the City 261 

Ascent of the Woolworth Tower . . .265 

Women Who Travel Alone 266 

Living in Hotels . . . . . . .270 

Travel in the City 271 

CHAPTER XVI 

Isles of Recreation 275 

Coney Island 280 

The Rockaways and Jamaica Bay . . . 284 

Sandy Hook and Back 286 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Lower Manhattan Looking South from Brook- 
lyn Bridge, 1917 . . Folded Supplement ^ 

Greenwich Village, McDougal Alley (Col- 
ored) Frontispiece ^ 

FACING PAGE 

Night View from the East River . . . 14 ^^ 

Sea Wall, at Battery Park 18"/ 

View of New York South from Woolworth 

Building 22^ 

Wall Street West to Trinity Church, Showing 

ing Patriotic Decorations (Colored) . . 26 

North on Broadway from Trinity Church . 31 '' 

A Little Bit of Old New York .... 35^' 
City Hall Park, World and Tribmie Buildings 

at Night 39 "^ 

Broadway and Singer Building . . . .40*'^ 

Madison Square, Christmas Eve . . . . 44 ^^ 

Trinity Spire Surrounded by Skyscrapers . 48^ 

The New General Post Office . . . . 52 ^ 
Fifth Avenue Shopping District with War 

Decorations (Colored) 56 ' 

The Stock Exchange and Morgan Building . ^1 */ 

Nassau Street, North from Wall Street . . 65 "^ 

Fifth Avenue, North from Forty-second Street 69 

The Municipal Building T3' 

The New York Public Library .... 74 
9 



10 LI8T OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGE / 

The Metropolitan Tower and Madison Square . 78 ^ 
Fifth Avenue, ISTorth from Thirty-fourth Street 82 ^ 

Riverside Drive 84 

Plaza at Fifty-ninth Street Decorated in 
Honor of Visiting War Commissions (Col- 
ored) 88 ^' 

Obelisk in Central Park 93 ^ 

Woman Suffrage Parade — Passing Public 

Library 95 > 

Madison Square Park 99 ^ 

Grant's Tomb 103 / 

Approach to Palisades Interstate Park . . 104 ^ 
Winter Night Scene, Madison Square . . 108 v" 
Wall Street West to Trinity Church . . .112 ^ 
St. Mark's Church Entrance .... 116'^ 

St. John's Chapel 125^ 

Aquarium at Battery Park 129^ . 

Sixth Avenue Shopping District ... 133 . 
Roger Morris House or Jumel Mansion . . 137 ^ 

Fraunces' Tavern 138 

Van Cortlandt Mansion . . . . . 142 
St. Paul's Church and Park Row . . .146 ^ 
The Chelsea Steamship Piers . . . . 155 v 
Maine Monument and Columbus Circle En- 
trance to Central Park 159 

Lower New York from East River . . . 163 

The City Hall 164 ' 

Battery Park and New York Bay . . . 168 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 11 

FACING PAGE / 

Poe Cottage 172 ^ 

Brooklyn Bridge at Wight 176 ^ 

Brooklyn Bridge Rusli Hour .... 185 >^ 

HaU of Fame 189 "^ 

East River Shipping Scene 193 ^ 

Broad Street I^orth to Wall Street . . 197 "^ 

Fort Tryon from tlie South 198 / 

Museum of Hispanic Society .... 202 "" 
Martyrs' Monument — Fort Greene Park, Brook- 
lyn 206 '^^ 

Bear Mountain Park Landing .... 215"^ 

Night Scene, Bryant Park 219 *^ 

Straus Fountain 223"^ 

"Washington Square and Arch at Kight . . 224 " 

CatskiU Aqueduct 228 "^ 

The Steamer Washington Irving . . . 232 ^ 
Largest Tree on Manhattan Island . . . 236 
Hudson Monument, Spuyten Duyvil Hill . 245 . 

Fort Tryon from the East 249 '' 

Fifth Avenue ISTorth from Fifty-fifth Street . 253" 
College of the City of l^ew York . . . 257' 
City Hall Park ....... 258'^ 

Atlantic Fleet Arriving in iN'ew York Harbor . 262 "^ 
The Low Memorial Library, Columbia Uni- / 

versity 266 

The Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument . . 275 

West Street Docks 279 "^ 

The Best Known Picture in the World . . 283 




NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 



CHAPTEE I 



THE CITY ITSELF 



Great centres of population possess for many per- 
sons a curious and fascinating interest. Wliy one 
particular hamlet should wax and grow strong while 
others remain stationary or retrograde is not always 
easily explained. Compared with the capitals of 
the Old World, I^ew York is still but an infant in 
arms. The directories of London and Paris stretch 
back almost five hundred years. The beginning of 
Rome, of Athens, of Alexandria, of Vienna are lost 
in the shadow lands of antiquity while the city of 
New York as we know it to-day dates only from 
1784, a trifle more than a hundred years. A growth 
so tremendous, so unexampled in the history of 
13 



14 NEW YORE OF TO-DAY 

civilization is in itself of such dramatic interest 
as to challenge the wonderment and arrest the 
attention, not only of historians, but also of the 
man in the street. \ It is to a consideration therefore 
of its present position and its alluring future, 
that we invite your attention. And for the mo- 
ment, we shall address ourselves not to the student 
or the antiquarian, but to the stranger within our 
gates and to our own people — many of whom have 
not even yet seen the Woolworth Building and 
only know by rumor that there is such a house as 
the Jumel Mansion. 

This indifference to the history of his home town 
does not indicate a lack of affection on the part 
of the New Yorker. It is, however, frequently 
made a subject of reproach. But when one has 
lived here for some years and experienced condi- 
tions in the Metropolis as they actually exist the 
matter is more easily understood. It must be borne 
in mind that enough new residents come to JSTew 
York in the course of five years to make another 
city the size of Boston or Cleveland. This process 
is continuous, and there always exists a large num- 
ber of our people to whom the question of perma- 
nency is not yet an established fact and whose in- 
terest in the traditions of our glorious past has 
naturally not yet been aroused. In this respect, 
however, there has been a notable improvement of 
late. Books on New York are of better quality 
and more widely read, and pictures of her imposing 
public and private buildings and her towering sky- 
scrapers are familiar in all parts of the world. 
Eelics of bygone days in the nature of old prints, 
rare books, etc., are in constant demand at in- 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 17 

creasingly higli prices, and this evidence of a 
quickening interest in all things pertaining to her 
history is unmistakable. 

Lit is, however, the spectacular and blatant aspect 
of our city which seems to make an irresistible 
appeal to that group of society novelists and guide- 
book historians whose works are among our best- 
sellers. They unduly emphasize the seamy side of 
our great city — the tango parlors, Chinatown, the 
East Side and other banal features. This school 
of literature is merely a development of the time 
when the E-ev. Dr. Bonehead spent a two weeks' 
vacation in the city and returned to write a weird 
and bulky volume entitled "Sunshine and Shadow; 
or. Life in the Great Metropolis," wherein every 
innocent little waitress was pictured as a vampire 
of the most malignant type and the whole city as 
a modern Sodom and Gomorrah. E'ot a word about 
its magnificent public school system, its wonderful 
charities, or the utter absence of that abject poverty 
which is the scourge and shame of Europe! 

"That ITew York has accepted without protest 
her role as Siren City cannot be denied," remarks 
one gifted writer. "Indeed, she rather expects writ- 
ers and dramatists to portray the dangers which 
lurk within her bosom for the pure young men and 
women from the country. Boston and Philadelphia 
are not free from evil. Heaven knows, but there is 
something faintly ridiculous in the idea of their 
luring a man to destruction." And so the great 
mass of literature produced outside of the city for 
rural consumption must necessarily feature this 
phase of city life or be forever eschewed by its bu- 
colic constituency. 



18 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

ISTevertheless, there is so much that is attractive, 
so much that is uplifting and inspiring, that it is 
a matter of regret to the real New Yorker that 
such misinformation and drivel is so generally dis- 
tributed. There is also much, no doubt, over which 
a veil could be drawn. But that is inevitable in a 
city so large. The unbiased chronicler of Man- 
hattan, nevertheless, has a vast storehouse of facts 
from which to draw, and needs no help from his 
imagination. _J 

I will assume at the outset that my readers have 
passed beyond! the undergraduate stage ^nd no 
essay on the early details of discovery and occupa- 
tion is necessary. Such rough strokes as may be 
introduced of an historical nature from time to time 
will be for the purpose of supplying the necessary 
background for the • scenes described. C Certain 
characteristics of the present day — its many tongues 
and races — have existed from its very inception. 
We know that New York was hemmed in on all sides 
by English neighbors and that in New England 
especially, with the exception of one hundred and 
fifty families from France in 1685, there was no emi- 
gration from any non-English-speaking country for 
nearly one hundred and fifty years. The same con- 
dition practically existed to the south also, Pennsyl- 
vania, Virginia, etc. — ^yet the moment you passed 
from the mainland to Manhattan you encountered 
a small settlement in which no less than sixteen 
different tongues were spoken and in which as early 
as 1653 it was necessary to print town notices in 
three other languages besides English. And the 
population of New York was then less than fifteen 
hundred, of which a third were slaves. This curious 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 21 

and radical difference from, its neighbors cannot 
be ascribed to the influence of its first Dutch set- 
tlers, as this characteristic was continued when the 
English took possession and has become more pro- 
nounced, if anything, under our American dispensa- 
tion. One might well venture the assertion that 
there is not a tongue known to civilization — and 
even beyond — that is not heard at some time or 
other on the sidewalks of I^ew York. -^ 

Certain other curious traits of these early days 
have also come down to us. We call the Hudson 
River the N^orth River, although every one knows 
that it lies directly west; and the body of water 
lying between New York and Brooklyn is called 
the East River, although it is not a river at all, but 
an arm of the sea. Both of these errors are in- 
herited from the Dutch, who spoke of Hudson's 
river as forming the north boundary of their 
possessions and the Delaware River as the south 
boundary — or South River. With this for a prec- 
edent it was quite natural to name the water on 
the east side of the city according to its geo- 
graphical position. In this connection it is pleasant 
to know that in some fortunate though unquestion- 
ably peculiar manner the name of the man who 
is most prominently identified with the discovery 
of New York has been perpetuated by the lordly 
stream which guards us on the west. Earlier navi- 
gators had reported the discovery of waters that 
were subsequently identified as the Hudson River, 
and gave the name Riviere Grande or Great 
River to the stream. Other ancient maps indicate 
that it was also named Norumbega. The former 
name, however, survived long after Norumbega dis- 



22 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

appeared, and longer still after Hudson's time. It 
was changed to Mauritse in honor of the Dutch 
Prince Henry of Nassau. This might have robbed 
Hudson of much of the glory that was his but for 
one of those curious happenings for which no one 
can exactly account. By common usage Hudson's 
name gradually became the popular name for this 
great river and finally passed into history. 

"Hudson," as John Fiske tells us, "was a notable 
instance of the irony of human destiny. He comes 
into our view on the quarter deck of a little shallop 
of scarcely ninety tons burden. He goes out of 
it in an open boat with seven sick sailors cast 
adrift in the Arctic seas to perish miserably, the 
victim of a cruel mutiny. In all that he attempted 
he failed; yet he achieved great results that were 
not contemplated in his original plans. He started 
two immense industries — the Spitzenbergen whale 
fisheries and the Hudson Bay fur trade, now the 
world renowned Hudson Bay Company; and he 
brought the Dutch to Manhattan Island. Ko reali- 
zation of his dreams, however, could have ap- 
proached the astonishing reality which would have 
greeted him could he have looked through the com- 
ing centuries and caught a glimpse of what the 
voyager now beholds in sailing up the bay of New 
York. 

"But what perhaps would have surprised him most 
of all would have been to learn that his name was 
to become part of the folk lore of the beautiful 
river to which it is attached; that he was to figure 
as a Dutchman instead of an Englishman in both 
legend and story; that when it is thunder weather 
in the Catskills children would say it is Hendrik 




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NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 25 

Hudson playing at skittles witli his goblin crew. 
Perhaps it is not an unkindly fate. Even as 
Milton wished for his dead friend Lycidas that he 
might become the genius of the shore, so the 
memory of the great Arctic navigator will remain 
a familiar presence among the hillsides which the 
gentle fancy of Washington Irving has clothed with 
undying romance." 

This great river has had such an important part 
in the development of New York as a commercial 
port that it fully warrants a more extended descrip- 
tion. Already a noble state park occupies one of 
its most entrancing regions — the Palisades. New 
Yorkers do not quite realize the wonderful grandeur 
of its scenery, else the river trip would rival Coney 
Island in popularity — which it fails to do. The 
stranger, however, will never regret the day spent 
in a sail up this majestic river, and will be amply 
repaid for the time and trouble expended. Wonderful 
steamers make the trip twice daily in the season. 
uNot only is our city of comparatively recent 
growth, but the records of its early days are singu- 
larly full and complete. This applies not only to 
its documentary records, but also and more particu- 
larly to its pictorial records. It is an inestimable 
privilege to see what we know is an exact and con- 
temporary drawing of what our city looked like 
from the beginning. In one respect at least its 
original settlement by a private corporation was of 
exceeding value from an historic point of view. 
The Dutch West India Company, under whose 
charter the city was established, left nothing to the 
discretion of its subordinates. Minute instructions 
concerning the most trivial details were received 



26 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

by every packet ship. Full directions regarding the 
construction o£ the first fort and the location of 
the surrounding houses accompanied Peter Minuit 
on his voyage of settlement. 

The island was purchased from the Indians for 
some trinkets, valued at $24, and the fort was 
erected on the site of the present Custom House, 
facing Bowling Green. At this time the island 
ended there. The streets to South Ferry and Bat- 
tery Park have since been added. The same is 
true of both the east and west sides of the down- 
town section. Pearl Street marked the extreme 
shore on the east and Greenwich Street on the west. 
A stockade or wall bounded the city on the north 
where Wall Street now is — ^hence the name of the 
most famous thoroughfare in the world. It stood 
for half a century and to a certain extent dwarfed 
the growth of the town. When this obstacle was 
finally removed a rapid development to the north 
ensued, which has continued ever since. '^ ., ., , . [ /l^^*" 

At ;N'o. 52 Broadway, below Wall Street, stood 
until recently the first skyscraper erected in New 
York (1884). It was only eight stories high, but 
it demonstrated the feasibility of skeleton construc- 
tion and caused Manhattan to develop up into the 
air instead of along the ground. The height of 
such buildings seems only to be limited by the 
owner's desire, so far as safety is concerned. The 
Woolworth Building is about eight hundred feet 
above ground, and the Metropolitan Tower is 
scarcely a hundred feet less. Within the past year, 
however, certain laws have been passed limiting 
the height of these buildings to a more reasonable 
altitude, and in certain zones the character and 



X-^' 





Painted by Alice Heath for ' New York of Today"— Copyright 1917 

WALL STREET — LOOKING TOWARD TRINITY CHURCH -1917 

GREAT PATRIOTIC DEMONSTRATION UPON THE ENTRY OF OUR COUNTRY INTO THE EURO- 
PEAN CONFLICT 



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TOIJTl^OD HA3q 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 27 

purpose of the building are also defined by law. This 
ensures a more harmonious development of the city 
as a whole and provides a definite plan for its 
future expansion. Certain sections are now re- 
served for retailing, others for manufacturing, and 
still others for wholesale business. 

The great number of persons employed in the 
cloak and suit trade first called attention to the 
necessity for some such regulation. These firms 
moved uptown to be close to their principal cus- 
tomers, the retailers. As, most of the latter are 
on Fifth Avenue and other nearby thoroughfares, 
the noontime promenade of these factory workers — 
who seemed determined to walk six abreast — ^pro- 
duced a congestion on the sidewalks that was very 
disagreeable to the shopper. The seriousness of 
the situation threatened the very existence of Fifth 
Avenue as a high-class retail centre and brought 
about the much-needed reform. All classes have 
benefited by the change, and ISTew York as a city 
and a place of residence has been vastly improved. 
\lt is quite impossible for the visitor who comes 
to New York for the first time to appreciate just 
what strain is placed upon the transportation facili- 
ties during what we call our rush hours. Unlike 
the ordinary American city, l^ew York is thirteen 
miles long, north and south, and in the downtown 
section only a trifle over a mile wide. Although 
the population of the island is officially given at five 
and a half millions, that number is vastly increased 
by the population of the surrounding territory, 
which pours into the city during business hours. 
There are now five immense bridges crossing the 
East River, besides a subway to Queens and Brook- 



28 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

lyn. Communication with New Jersey on the west 
is afforded by numerous ferryboats and an under- 
ground railway, whicli runs through a tube similar 
to the one which connects Brooklyn. 

The latter borough has a population of its own 
amounting to nearly two million people. It is 
quite impossible to describe adequately the scene 
enacted at the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge 
each morning and evening. It would seem that 
the entire city had come over, and was bent on 
returning all at the same moment. Many sugges- 
tions looking toward a solution of this terrific 
congestion have been offered, but none has as yet 
proved practical. The handling of this enormous 
crowd by the bridge trains is something the like 
of which is seen nowhere else in the world. Ten 
times the number of persons engaged in the present 
European war are thus moved to and fro in ITew 
York each year, and with far fewer accidents than 
happen on the streets every month. It is truly a 
marvel in transportation. 

If you are fond of crowds, and are not satisfied 
with the numbers encountered at the bridge or the 
subways during the rush hours, you might try the 
Saturday afternoon theatre crowds in the neighbor- 
hood of Forty-second Street and Broadway. They 
may not be quite so numerous, but, unlike the 
bridge crowds, they do not all go in the same di- 
rection, nor are they so hurried. The resulting 
discomfort is accordingly greater. But as one of 
the sights of the city it is worth seeing. About 
three hundred thousand persons are crowded within 
the narrow confines of a few short blocks. Within 
a few minutes they are swallowed up in the various 




Looking north from Trinity Church on Broadway. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 31 

places of amusement, and the streets resume their 
normal aspect again. 

In the evening the transition is distinctly notice- 
able, as there are fewer persons about at that hour 
to take the place of the theatre crowds when they 
disappear. It can hardly be said that there is a 
time when no one is about in New York. Perhaps 
between one and two A. M. might be the hour that 
fewest will be seen. Soon after that hour the night 
workers appear, printers, newspaper men, office care- 
takers, etc. — a considerable item in the city's popu- 
lation — and from then till about six o'clock, when 
the regular business of the day begins, there is no 
cessation. 1 Eeal estate men have a curious custom 
of counting the people who pass by a certain corner 
in the course of twenty-four hours. Some of them 
have quite a respectable average, and except in 
certain sections uptown there are few who have 
none to their credit. 




. CHAPTER II 

BROADWAY 

The Main Street in Our Village 



Of all the streets whicli are dear to New Yorkers 
we may without fear of protest place Broadway at 
the head. With all its faults, with its miles of 
plank roads (at present), its generally overcrowded 
condition and its intolerable hustle and bustle, there 
is something about our main thoroughfare that^ 
makes us calmly tolerant of its shortcomings^ 
Every once in a while some stranger comes to town 
and calls it an architectural monstrosity — and we 
give his remarks large space in the papers. Then 
we go to the theatre and George Cohan says, "Give 
my regards to old Broadway," and we applaud like 
demons. Then another man who has just skidded 
over the wet boards alongside a Catskill water open- 
32 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 35 

ing in Herald Square, or elsewhere, vents his dis- 
gust by saying, "Let's cut this jay town; I want a 

real city — take me back to Chi " and so it goes. 

The spirit is 

"Boston has her Garden, Philly has her Zoo, 
'New York has her Broadway — it's good 
enough for you. 

This wild, unreasoning, unmistakable pride in 
Broadway may not be comprehensible; it depends 
upon the point of view. We have Fifth Ave- 
nue, Riverside Drive, Central Park, Morningside 
Heights and a dozen other localities far surpassing 
Broadway in mere physical charm, but the New 
Yorker refuses to take them to his heart in the 
way he does Broadway. He does not, however, in- 
sist that you shall see it as he does. A smile of 
tender compassion is about all you can get out of a 
New Yorker in reply to a denunciation of his main 
street. Never a peddler emigrant selling shoe- 
strings under the shadow of St. Paul's but hopes 
pome day to have his name on a big sign on 
Broadway, and who shall say that this is wrong — 
or that it does not account for the interminable 
string of foreign names on Broadway from Canal 
to Fourteenth Street? New York is cosmopolitan 
and denies neither Jew nor Gentile the right to 
the reward of his genius, and "a place in the sun" 
of Broadway is no mean ambition. 
x^ In half a dozen miles it changes its character as 
many times. It is a hundred and fifty miles long, 
all told. The oldest skyscraper — the Washington 
Building — ^marks its start at the Battery. They 



36 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

say tlie old tenants of this building never move in 
spite of lavish inducements. It was built by tlie 
late Cyrus Field and for many years was called 
by his name.iJliA block of old-fashioned houses ad- 
joins it on the north, including the first hotel owned 
by Paran Stevens, the Stevens House, and the first 
Broadway location of Delmonico's. The new sub- 
way will cause the removal of these landmarks. 
The massive Bowling Green Building, owned by 
the Goulds, comes next in order, and almost directly 
across the street is that Holy of Holies, the Stand- 
ard Oil Building, at ISTo. 26. Whole chapters could 
be written about this one building, perhaps the 
best known, certainly the most talked of, on Broad- 
way. As a practical demonstration in the gentle 
art of making money ^o. 26 Broadway is surely 
entitled to all the plaudits it receives. 

ISTotwithstanding the dislike of the family for 
public notoriety, it remains a fact that young John 
D. frequently, in fact almost daily, weather per- 
mitting, drives to his office in a light gig drawn by 
two spirited horses. He is probably the most con- 
spicuous object on the street, and he seems to enjoy 
the exercise. ISTobody pays any attention except 
to mention his name as he goes prancing by. 

The next three or four blocks are occupied by 
financial buildings, banks, etc. This continues well 
beyond Trinity Church, where there begins a slight 
divergence in favor of insurance, real estate and 
lawyers. As yet there is no manufacturing or job- 
bing firms. The street floors are usually occupied 
by small retail stores, purveying hats, cigars, can- 
dies, soda and other personal needs. Buildings like 
the Empire, housing the officers of the United States 




Cirs- HaJ! Park ; Wodd and Tntmne Buildings at night. 



XEW TOBK OF TO-DAY 39 

Steel Corporation, and the Equitable Life Assur- 
ance dominate the neighborliood- The Trinity 
Building, OTerlooking the bnrying ground of the 
famous old church, is a beautiful specimen of the 
Gothic style in business buildings, and is 
a strikingly beautiful structure. And an equally 
handsome building adjoins it. Opposite is the new 
forty-story Equitable Building. This structure, 
with entrances from four sides, forms one of the 
busiest arcades in the world. It is estimated that 
half a million persons pass through it daily, and 
the number of passengers using the elevators ex- 
ceeds twenty-five thousand per day. 

Almost opposite, but a little to the north, is the 
tall tower of the Singer Building, which for a few 
brief months enjoyed the distinction of being the 
loftiest pinnacle in the city, only to lose the honor 
first to the Metropolitan Tower and secondly to the 
Woolworth palace. On the block above the Singer 
is another great o^ce building, the City Investing 
Building. This contains the executive oSces of the 
subway and elevated systems and other corporations 
of s im ilar importance. A view of the ma in en- 
trance, perhaps the most imposing in the city, is 
well worth the moment it takes. Across the street 
are several banking and title insurance companies, 
notably the first one that made a succe^ of the 
business of searching and guaranteeing titles to 
real estate. This work had hitherto been in the 
hands of lawyers and formed a large part of their 
incomes. It was a business cunibersoniely managed 
and sadly in need of improvement. The new idea 
accomplished that and has been a great benefit to 
landholders everywhere. 



40 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

Crossing the street again we come to the new 
building just completed for the main offices of the 
telegraph and telephone business of the city. It 
rises on the site of the old Western Union Building, 
for many years the highest building in the city. 
From the tower of the old building projected still 
higher a flagstaff, on the end of which was a ball. 
Promptly at noon each day this ball dropped from 
the top of the pole to the bottom, and everybody 
looked at their timepieces to see if they indicated 
exactly twelve o'clock, and if not to adjust them. 
It was quite a sight to see hundreds of men, watches 
in hand, looking up for the stroke of twelve. 

The St. Paul Building, on the east side, facing 
the old post-office, and directly opposite St. Paul's 
Chapel, stands on the site of Barnum's old museum 
and later of the Herald Building. The road to the 
right leads up Park Row to the newspaper section, 
where are located the offices of many of the great 
metropolitan dailies, the Tribune and World build- 
ings being conspicuous. The road continues past 
the park and finally merges into the Bowery, and 
in the old days you could keep on till you came to 
Boston, as this was the old post-road to the capital 
of New England. 

Returning to the post-office and continuing up 
Broadway, we pass the old Astor House, for more 
than half a century the wonder of New York and 
the best-known hotel in this part of the world. It 
is now an office building. Across the street is per- 
haps the most beautiful and impressive building 
ever erected for purely commercial purposes, the 
Woolworth Building. No greater tribute to the 
worth of small things could be devised, for all the 




View on Bread .vay. showing Singer Building, 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 43 

world knows that it was built out of the profits of 
the five-and-ten-cent stores, and that within thirty- 
days after completion it was free and clear of all 
debts or liabilities of any kind. It is supposed to 
have cost between seven and eight millions. Else- 
where we have devoted a special page to the impor- 
tance of visiting the tower of this building, an event 
of the greatest interest to the stranger, and some- 
thing which native ^ew Yorkers seldom achieve 
themselves, more's the pity. 

The post-office, which is directly opposite the 
Woolworth Building, was the second building owned 
by the Government for purely postal purposes. The 
present building was completed in 1876, but is al- 
ready superseded by an up-to-the-minute structure 
opposite the Pennsylvania Station on Eighth Ave- 
nue, and the building you are now looking at may 
soon be a thing of the past. As we emerge from 
the post-office we come upon the city^s most impor- 
tant group of buildings and its most historic pos- 
session — the City Hall and municipal buildings and 
the City Hall Park— last of the common lands orig- 
inally owned by the corporation. 

The present City Hall is the third building 
erected by the city for the administration of its 
municipal affairs. The first was the Stadt Huys at 
the corner of Pearl Street and Coenties Slip, erected 
by the Dutch originally and continued by the Eng- 
lish. It was demolished in 1700 and the new build- 
ing at the corner of Wall and ISTassau streets took 
its place. This building was deeded to the Federal 
Government at the time of Washington's inaugura- 
tion and became known as Federal Hall. After 
the Capitol was removed from N'ew York this build- 



44 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

ing was abandoned and the site taken for a Custom 
House. The present City Hall was then erected 
and occupied in 1812. It is considered one of the 
finest examples of Colonial architecture now stand- 
ing, and although the city's needs have long out- 
grown the capacity of this structure, the old 
building is still in constant use by the Mayor and 
the chiefs of the city government, borough presi- 
dents, board of aldermen and others. 

The huge building, a little northeast of the City 
Hall, however, is where the real working force of 
the municipal government is housed. This is 
known as the Municipal Building and contains a 
population in business hours of between seven and 
eight thousand persons, all employed by the city. 
These are to a large extent merely the bookkeeping 
offices of the city government, the total number of 
employees outside engaged in various public im- 
provements — subways, aqueducts, bridges and sim- 
ilar work — aggregating the stupendous number of 
nearly an additional hundred thousand persons. 
About eighty-five thousand are permanently on the 
payroll, the balance being temporary, according to 
the work the city has in hand. Tens of thousands 
are employed in the new subways, and other thou- 
sands on the Catskill Aqueduct, now rapidly ap- 
proaching completion, to say nothing of street 
openings, bridge building and other work calling 
for the employment of labor on a huge scale. 

The City Hall is an interesting building to visit 
and there are caretakers to show you through. It 
has been the scene of many notable celebrations, 
beginning with the two hundredth anniversary of 
the discovery of Manhattan by Hendrik Hudson, 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 47 

Captain Hull's famous victory over the Guerriere, 
the visit of Lafayette in 1824, and Joffre this year, 
the opening of the Erie Canal in 1825, the opening 
of the Croton Aqueduct in 1842 — ^the first time New 
York had running water in its houses — the laying 
of the Atlantic cable, the reception to the late King 
Edward, then Prince. of Wales, in 1860, and other 
notable events. The lying in state of President Lin- 
coln, of General Grant and of General Worth was 
also observed here. 

There are quite a number of interesting relics in 
the various rooms, among others being the two desks 
used by Washington and the furniture used in the 
old Federal Hall in Wall Street by the first Con- 
gress ; also excellent portraits by Trumbull of Wash- 
ington and Hamilton; a portrait of Stuyvesant, 
busts of Henry Clay and DeWitt Clinton, the punch 
bowl used at the Erie Canal celebration and vari- 
ous other old mementoes of the city's past. 

Outside is a tablet recording the fact that the 
Declaration of Independence was read to the Con- 
tinental Army here. General Washington being pres- 
ent, July 9, 1776. Another tablet brings us sharply 
back to more .prosaic things by marking the spot 
where ground was broken by Mayor Yan Wyck for 
the first excavation of the subway. The statue of 
Nathan Hale by MacMonnies is one of our most 
cherished possessions and is well worth a visit of 
any one at all interested in the city. 

Beyond the City Hall on Broadway, east side, 
is the marble building erected by the late A. T. 
Stewart, one of New York's greatest merchants, 
for his wholesale department. At that time the 
wholesale district was largely on Broadway up to 



48 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

about Canal Street. While the dry goods district, 
as it is known, still remains downtown, it has prac- 
tically disappeared from Broadway. 

From Chambers Street clear up to the new shop- 
ping district at Thirty-fourth Street, Broadway is 
merely one great business house after another, with 
an occasional old rookery belonging to some ancient 
estate sandwiched in between. Property as far up 
as Fourteenth Street, with the possible exception 
of the section known as Wanamaker's, has suffered 
from the ultra conservative policy of the old land- 
owners, who have persistently declined to keep pace 
in making improvements. The result has been that 
the newly built section of Fourth Avenue from 
Union Square to Thirty-fourth Street has secured 
many desirable tenants from this particular region. 
There will soon be a subway along Broadway, how- 
ever, and as the owners have learned a lesson it 
is expected that Broadway will regain all its former 
prestige and possibly more. 

Beyond Union Square there is also a state of 
suspended animation extending almost to Thirty- 
fourth Street. A few blocks this side of Thirty- 
fourth Street begins the hotel district, and at 
Thirty-second Street to Thirty-fifth Street several 
of the great retail stores are situated. The Penn- 
sylvania Station also adds its quota to the crowds 
along the streets, and the busiest corner of Broad- 
way is the result. The three great hotels in this 
immediate neighborhood, the Imperial, the Mar- 
tinique and the McAlpin, together with the 
"Herald" Building and the great stores situated 
here, combine to make this one of the most lively 
and interesting sections of the city. 




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A view on Broadway, near Wall Street, 

showing the massive sky-scrapers that now surround Trinity Church. 

The steeple of Trinity is faintly shown in foreground. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 51 

The street itself, however, is badly torn up for 
the new subway and one of the bridgeheads for the 
Catskill Aqueduct rears its ugly form directly in 
the middle of Herald Square. This torn-up condi- 
tion is a permanent feature of JSTew York's streets. 
The town grows so fast that it seems impossible to 
finish one improvement before another is projected. 
A good, commonsense system may be introduced 
some day, but at present we must put up with what 
we have. 

Beyond Thirty-fourth Street, we are on the out- 
skirts of the theatrical district, and thanks to O. J. 
Gude also in the middle of the "great white way." 
Those romantic prose poets who are forever exalt- 
ing the virtues of electric signs point with pride 
to the blatant glare along Broadway as an instance 
of the cheerfulness and gaiety produced by this 
method of publicity. It is perhaps better than the 
Stygian darkness of State Street, Chicago, after 
nightfall, but the opportunity for intelligent, deco- 
rative lighting under municipal auspices is there, 
and would be well worth its cost and would add an 
artistic attractiveness to the city which would jus- 
tify the constant and enthusiastic praise of the 
"Great White Way." 

Forty-second Street cuts across the city at this 
point, sharply defining an entirely new region cre- 
ated practically within the past decade. A formerly 
residential street of homes, churches and clubs, with 
a beautiful little park at its centre, it has now be- 
come the most hectic and nervous centre in the 
whole city. At one end, the Grand Central Ter- 
minal, with its notable grouping of magnificent 
hotels, and at the other all the leading theatres in 



52 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

close proximity, combine to make this section of 
the city one of continuous movement, and all 
contained within a stretch of pavement that can 
be easily covered in a leisurely walk of half an 
hour. 

Westward from Broadway Forty-second Street 
loses much of its interest for the tourist beyond 
Eighth Avenue, but starting from the Knickerbocker 
Hotel eastward the street gains in interest as it 
approaches Fifth Avenue. The block east of the 
hotel is largely made up of retail stores and some 
wholesale showrooms, more or less attractive by rea- 
son of their clean and apparently well-designed fur- 
nishings. At Sixth Avenue, Bryant Park and the 
Library extend all the way to Fifth Avenue. . There 
are no stores or buildings along the entire length. 
On the opposite side, however, a great retail dry 
goods store adjoins Aeolian Hall for a good part of 
the block. The recitals and musicals of the latter 
are quite a feature of New York life. The balance 
of the block is occupied by small but pretty retail 
stores dealing in jewelry, knick-knacks, clothing, 
shoes and all manner of small ware. 

Beyond Fifth Avenue to the Grand Central Ter- 
minal the block is dignified by the perfectly splen- 
did new building just erected by the Astor Trust 
Company. Built of Indiana limestone, this impos- 
ing white pile is an adornment to the city. It 
ranks with the Woolworth Building in point of 
beauty, which is high praise. Small retail stores 
occupy the block down to the Forty-second Street 
Building, the latter being one of the great number 
of magnificent office buildings in the neighborhood, 
the latest, the Heckscher, being on the corner oppo- 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 55 

site. There must be a dozen equally large buildings 
of this type within a very short distance of one an- 
other, and the population of them is said to be well 
up to fifty thousand. The new twenty-story Yale 
Club Building is here; also the Harvard nearby. 

The hotels, Belmont, Murray Hill, Ritz-Carlton, 
Manhattan, Biltmore and the projected Commodore, 
are all within less than a few hundred feet of each 
other and entertain thousands of guests every day. 
The Biltmore alone is an institution in itself and 
has so many public entertainments going on within 
its walls that it is well worth a visit. The new 
Grand Central Terminal marks the end of the in- 
teresting part of Forty-second Street to the tourist, 
and the building itself combines so many new fea- 
tures that its original purpose of being a stopping 
place for trains seems lost in the shuffle. 

Retracing our steps to the point from which we 
digressed, we are again on Broadway, going north. 
We pass the new Astor Hotel, the Strand, a famous 
moving picture house, several theatres (not forget- 
ting the Hippodrome, which, however, is a block 
east), and continue past the show district till we 
find ourselves in the midst of another set of beauti- 
ful modern buildings, tenanted exclusively by great 
firms who Avere unheard of a few years ago — the 
automobile manufacturers. Here are handsome 
marble buildings of beautiful construction devoted 
to this business, some occupying buildings of their 
own exclusively. Here are all the new-made mil- 
lionaire concerns of Detroit and other cities — Fords, 
Cadillacs, Packards, Pierce Arrows, Peerless, Hup- 
mobiles, Hudsons, Franklins and the entire auto- 
mobile family. These offices extend over a mile 



56 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

along Broadway and are continually spreading. 
Everything about tliem is spick and span, and the 
entire section radiates newness and brightness from 
every quarter. They contribute not a little to the 
interest of Broadway below as well as above Fifty- 
ninth Street. 

At Fifty-ninth Street the Italians of the city 
have erected a statue to Columbus, and the name 
given to this entrance to the park is Columbus 
Circle. Just beyond the Columbus Monument 
(which stands in the centre of the circle) is the 
beautiful statue erected to the memory of the sailor 
boys who perished in the disaster to the Maine 
in Havana harbor. It is a beautiful work, one of 
the best ever designed by Magonigle. The bronze 
group representing Columbia Triumphant which 
surmounts the top is made from guns recovered 
from the sunken battleship. 

Passing the circle we continue up Broadway, 
which begins at this point to show the great de- 
velopment of massive apartment houses, which are 
now a prominent feature of the street as we go 
north. As yet these are largely interspersed with 
hotels, which, while being apartments, are in reality 
hotels for permanent occupancy, and do not quite 
correspond to the general meaning of the word 
apartment. This combination of business and liv- 
ing apartments continues for quite a considerable 
distance, business places gradually decreasing, ex- 
cept for retail stores which supply the populace 
with many needed small items, till we finally emerge 
at One Hundred and Sixteenth Street, the section 
given over entirely to the grounds and buildings of 
Columbia University and its students. 



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NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 67 

This section of the city has been recently de- 
scribed as the Acropolis of America, and extends 
from Kiverside Drive to Morningside Park. The 
college grounds proper extend from One Hundred 
and Fourteenth Street to One Hundred and Twen- 
tieth Street, and from Broadway to Amsterdam 
Avenue, but the land west of the college grounds 
proper, from One Hundred and Sixteenth to One 
Hundred and Twentieth between Broadway and 
Claremont Avenue, and the blocks north from One 
Hundred and Twentieth Street to One Hundred 
and Twenty -first Street, also the land to the east 
from One Hundred and Sixteenth to One Hundred 
and Seventeenth Street between Amsterdam Avenue 
and Morningside Avenue, upon which stand Bar- 
nard College, Teachers College, the Horace Mann 
School and the president's house, are all included 
in the university holdings. 

The Broadway subway cars will bring you right 
to the college entrance from any part of the city 
in a very short time. The Fifth Avenue motor 
busses also let you off at Riverside Drive and One 
Hundred and Sixteenth Street within a short block 
of the grounds. By this latter route you have the 
added pleasure of the scenery along the river and 
the drive, a valued addition to the pleasures of the 
trip. Every facility is provided strangers for a 
walk through the grounds, and many of the build- 
ings are open for inspection by the public. A model 
of all the university buildings twenty feet by thirty- 
five, including all those planned as well as erected — 
a gift of F. Augustus Schermerhorn, class of '68 — 
is in the basement of Kent Hall, southwest corner 
One Hundred and Sixteenth Street and Amsterdam 



68 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

Avenue, and may save time for tliose wlio would 
like to get an idea of tlie extent of Columbia Uni- 
versity and yet have not tlie time to go through it 
in its entirety. 

Beyond the college region are numberless dormi- 
tories and housing facilities afforded by private per- 
sons whose main business is the care and boarding 
of students. The great majority of the student body 
are non-residents, so the business of housing them 
is quite important, and their presence imparts an 
altogether different atmosphere to this section. 

BacS of the college grounds rises the magnificent 
new Cathedral of St. John the Divine, the third 
largest ecclesiastical edifice in the world. It will be 
the central point of interest in this section when 
completed. It is best viewed from Morningside Park. 
Not far from the Cathedral is the splendid new 
hospital of St. Luke's, and beyond that some mag- 
nificent new private residences are in course of 
construction. It is quite likely that this part of 
New York will in time become one of the world's 
famous resorts for letters, arts and science. For 
its architectural achievements it already holds a 
high place. 

Northward from the college campus Broadway ex- 
periences one of those sudden changes from afflu- 
ence to poverty so common to New York streets, and 
the region beyond One Hundred and Twenty-third 
Street loses interest until it reaches the high ground 
of Washington Heights. The Jumel Mansion, Trin- 
ity Cemetery, the Hispanic Society, the Geograph- 
ical Society and Indian Foundation at One Hun- 
dred and Fifty-Fifth Street are of great interest and 
are all more fully described elsewhere. 




umo The Stock Exchange 

and entrance to J. P. Morgan & Co.'s new building. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 61 

^ Beyond One Hundred and Fifty-third Street 
Broadway winds unobtrusively along, skirting old 
Fort Tryon and Isham Park, finally crossing the old 
Dyckman farm on its way to the subway terminal 
at Two Hundred and Forty-second Street, just ten 
miles from where we started. At this station the 
limit of New York is practically reached, as the 
southern boundary of Yonkers adjoins the city a 
little further on at Van Cortlandt Park. 

Although Broadway still continues its northern 
way as far as the Capital City of the State, we 
will leave it here and turn our attention to some 
other sections which we have overlooked temporarily 
while giving attention to the pride of New York — • 
the Broad High Way of Colonial days and the 
Broadway of our own. 




CHAPTEK III 



WALL STREET 



The Best-Known Half Mile in the World 



Of the four streets in New York laiown tlie world 
over — Broadway, Fifth Avenue, the Bowery and 
Wall Street — the latter is by far the most famous. 
Newspapers in every section of civilization print 
the name of the last-named thoroughfare in every 
issue, and the Wall Street column has a larger num- 
ber of daily readers than any other item printed. 
For a street less than half a mile long and but 
little more than thirty feet wide, its importance is 
altogether disproportionate to its mere physical size. 
It does not lack dignity, however, both sides being 
lined with buildings of the most costly and im- 
posing character. Aside from its fame as the great- 
est of all financial centres, the street derives piquancy 
and zest from the thrills and excitement of meet- 
ing face to face most of the men whose names are 
familiar to the reading public. 
62 



A 




Nassau Street, looking north from Wall. The Bankers' Trust Build- 
ing stands on the site of John Simmon's Tavern, where the first Com- 
mon Council met in 1784, under James Duane, our first mayor. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 65 

All the great captains of industry; the capitalists 
whose every move is recorded by the press; distin- 
guished visitors from foreign countries; railroad 
presidents, various dignitaries in the shape of steel 
kings, rubber kings, sugar kings, oil kings and lesser 
members of the royal families of commerce and 
manufacture may all be seen here. The comings 
and goings of the late J. Pierpont Morgan were 
always moments of delightful excitement to the 
visitor and something to speak about when he got 
back home. Mr. Morgan's photograph was so fre- 
quently printed that he was easily recognized. The 
same is true of Mr. Eockef eller. With these two ex- 
ceptions, however, most of the big men of the street, 
like the present J. P. Morgan and.H. P. Davison, 
though well known by name to the average reader, 
cannot very well be identified from the portraits 
that occasionally appear. Business, however, brings 
them constantly on the street, and they are every- 
where in evidence. 

Where so many £rins and institutions are famous 
it is hard to single out any one in particular, but 
we presume the first choice would be either the 
Morgan Bank or the Stock Exchange. The latter 
is but a few steps from Trinity Church on Wall 
Street, though its main fagade fronts on Broad 
Street. The Morgan bank is a few steps below 
it on the corner of Wall and Broad streets, almost 
opposite where the old Federal Hall was, and part 
of it on the site of Alexander Hamilton's old home, 
from the steps of which he looked across at the 
inauguration of Washington as first President of 
the United States. A statue of Washington taking 
the oath of office stands on the steps of the Sub- 



66 NE^Y YORK OF TO-DAY 

Treasury building, which now occupies the site of 
the old Federal Hall; and the British Government, 
to overthrow which Hamilton raised millions, is 
now being sustained by the thousands of millions 
which Morgan is helping to raise. The Assay Office 
is in the rear of the Sub-Treasury. 

Farther down on the same side of the street is 
the many-pillared building of the famous City Na- 
tional Bank, custodian of the funds of the Standard 
Oil Company, and perhaps the largest bank in the 
world. Below that, on the corner of Water Street, 
is a bronze tablet marking the site of one of New 
York's most famous pre-Revolutionary buildings, 
the Merchants' Coffee House. Beyond that are the 
offices of the American Sugar Eefinery. 
CScarcely a foot of "Wall Street but is historic 
ground. The street received its name from the 
stockade or wall erected in 1653 by the last of the 
Dutch governors. At first this was merely a^ cattle 
guard formed of felled trees with their roots all 
lying in one direction to prevent cattle straying. 
On account of Indian troubles, disputes with the 
English and forages of wild animals, it was decided 
to make this barrier of considerable strength. So 
a stockade of stout timbers, securely built, was 
erected, with a gate at Broadway and another at 
the East River. This barrier stood for about half 
a century and was finally removed. Frequent refer- 
ence by the people to the "wall" resulted in that 
permanent name for the street. ^ 

There are four century-old banks in a row. Two 
of them are distinguished as being established by 
Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr respectively — 
the Bank of New York, No. 48, and the Manhattan 




Fifth Avenue from Forty-second Street — the ultra-fashionable shop 

ping district. Temple Emannel on the corner. 

The distant spires on the right are St. Patrick's Cathedral. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 69 

Company, at 'Eo. 40. The Merchants' National, at 
42, and the Bank of America, at 44 and 46, com- 
plete the quartet. At ISTo. 56 is a tablet to mark 
the beginning of the life insurance business in this 
country. Not far from this number, on the corner 
of William and Beaver streets, is the Cotton Ex- 
change, on which another tablet appears, commemo- 
rating the establishment by William Bradford of 
the first newspaper in New York. Across the street 
is a dining resort known the world over — Del- 
monico's — largely patronized by the rich bankers 
and brokers in the neighborhood. 

The lure of the Stock Exchange, the marvellous 
tales of enormous riches acquired in the twinkling 
of an eye, are not the only things that invest Wall 
Street with its absorbing interest for the general 
public. Some of these yarns are palpable inven- 
tions, but they make good stories and will continue 
to be printed, but Wall Street as the world's finan- 
cial centre has a serious role to enact and performs 
its part with commendable sincerity and undoubted 
ability. One must admit that it gives a thrill of 
pleasurable excitement to happen along just as a 
string of huge trucks drive up to the Sub-Treasury 
and you personally witness a consignment of two 
or three hundred millions of dollars in gold for the 
firm of Morgan being delivered at its destination. 
It rather pays you for the few moments you spend, 
r Wall Street is so short that one can walk down 
one side and up the other in less than twenty min- 
utes.^ Make a few notes of the places you particu- 
larly wish to see and it will add greatly to your 
pleasure, as you can go about with a definite plan 
in view. Admission to the Stock Exchange and 



TO NE^Y YORK OF TO-DAY 

the Sub-Treasury is by ticket, but almost any 
banker or broker will provide you with that upon 
request. The superintendent of the Assay Office 
conducts visitors through the building between the 
hours of eleven A. M. and one P. M. There is 
nothing particular to see in private places like the 
City ^Rational Bank or Morgan's, but you can step 
inside and polite attention will be paid you and 
part of the interior shown. 

Everywhere in New York, if a stranger expresses 
a desire to see more or know more of a certain build- 
ing, he will find an attendant who will try to meet 
his wishes as far as consistent with business. As 
one of the most talked-of thoroughfares in the 
world "the Street," as Wall Street is colloquially 
known, will more than repay the time spent within 
its romantic and interesting bounds. 



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CHAPTEE TV 



FIFTH AVENUE 

The N'ew Eetail Shopping District 

Tpie first thing that strikes the stranger in ITew 
York is the large number of well-dressed people 
seen on this street. And I mean by that not well 
dressed in the ordinary acceptance of the term, but 
elaborately so. It is no exaggeration to say that in 
no city in the world is there a street so altogether 
attractive as Fifth Avenue from Madison Square 
to Carnegie Hill. It is the one thoroughfare which 
by common consent has been reserved for the use 
of polite society. No unsightly wagons filled with 
hind quarters of beef or other ill-smelling merchan- 
dise are permitted to invade its classic precincts. 
The most plebeian vehicle is the bus, and even that 
charges double the fare of other cars and im- 
parts a corresponding sense of superiority. All 
other commercial transportation is vigorously ex- 
T3 



74 NE\Y YORK OF TO-DAY 

eluded. Motor cars of the most costly type inter- 
spersed with an occasional old-fashioned family 
coach drawn by a pair of spirited horses, with driver 
and footman, occupy the driveway exclusively, and 
the crowds on either sidewalk are in keeping with 
the same standard. The light-hearted spirit of 
New York is not revealed half so plainly among 
the brilliant crowds in the hotels and theatres at 
night as it is on this avenue in the daytime. It is 
an ever-changing kaleidoscope, effervescing in 
its sheer delight of living. On one of those 
ravishingly beautiful days for which New York 
is weatherwisely famous, it is hard to adequately 
describe the animation of the crowds, or the 
exhilaration of a walk on this most famous show 
street of the town. The fascination of the hu- 
man pageant is greatly enhanced by the quiet 
beauty of the splendid architecture which lines 
both sides of the avenue. This background of im- 
posing splendor is further enriched by the most 
interesting succession of alluring shop window 
that ever dazzled and delighted the eyes of mortal 
women. 

This is New York's latest shopping district, and 
as everything is practically just from the builders' 
hands, every modern idea in construction and deco- 
ration has here found its full, expression. The 
prevailing color is white, either Indiana limestone, 
granite or marble, and as New York burns no soft 
coal the effect is decidedly stimulating. Time 
does not stale her whiteness; it only imparts an 
ivory finish to her loveliness. Visitors who live in 
communities where the primeval practice of using 
a soft, sooty coal still persists are at a loss to ex- 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 11 

press their delight at the purity and cleanliness of 
'New York's atmosphere. It is the one thing in 
praise of which they can all unite. Few things have 
added more to the renown of I^ew York than her 
freedom from a smoke-laden atmosphere; and her 
frank and childlike enjoyment of her brilliant sun- 
shine is refreshing. 

The side streets, just off the avenue and crossing it 
at near angles, are as much a part of the avenue 
as if they were actually on the main line. Countless 
exquisite little shops dot these cross streets, all 
catering to what is known as "specialty" trade. If 
madam objects to the throngs in the greater stores, 
madam may; come here, receive personal attention, 
see specially designed material and enjoy an air 
of exclusiveness not possible in the larger establish- 
ments. These little shops are patterned after their 
prototypes in Bond Street and the Avenue de 
I'Opera. Artistically designed outwardly, the in- 
terior is a model of neatness and superb taste. 
There is an absence of hustle and worry in these 
little places which is not without its attraction for 
certain clientele. And they achieve success by de- 
serving it. "] 

Coming up the Murray Hill district of the ave- 
nue one stops involuntarily to admire the dignified 
and impressive outlines of JSTew York's great Public 
Library. With a sigh one recalls the sudden death 
by accident of the great architect whose brain 
planned this classic edifice just a week before its 
formal opening. The doors of the still unopened 
building swing back to permit the body of John 
M. Carrere to rest for a moment in the rotunda of 
what was to be the crowning achievement of his 



78 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

career. It was a graceful and beautiful tribute. 
Last year tbe Library bad some two million or more 
visitors, and its activities are continually expand- 
ing. It is one of tbe notable buildings in "New 
York, and a visit is sometbing not to be forgotten. 

Above Forty-second Street on tbe avenue we 
encounter one of tbese subtle changes wbich mark 
tbe varying attitude in tbe social standing of tbe 
various blocks along tbis aristocratic thoroughfare. 
These changes are not at all important in a busi- 
ness sense, but they exist and are recognized by 
their devotees. For instance, the afternoon prome- 
nades of the young ladies of fashionable finishing 
schools must not extend below Forty-fifth Street. 
In the minds of those whose shops are above Forty- 
fifth Street this imparts an added dignity to their 
particular section. 

In the old days light-fingered gentry known to 
the police were not allowed south of Fulton Street. 
The wholesale jewelry trade centred around Maiden 
Lane, and Wall Street was only a few blocks dis- 
tant. This offered a tempting field, and so preven- 
tion was regarded as better than cure. To have 
your place of business below this recognized "dead 
line" served by implication to place you within the 
charmed circle of those whose business was dis- 
tinguished by special police protection, and a little 
throwing out of the chest naturally followed. As 
a matter of fact this "dead line" beyond Forty-fifth 
Street -is no excuse for exalting those firms who 
live within its sacred precincts, nor is it so regarded ; 
there are still quite a number of private bouses 
left on this section of the street, and the crowds 
are less insistent, which explains it. ITevertheless, 







The Metropolitan Tower and Dr. Parkhursts Church, 
Madison Square. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 81 

the recent announcement that Mr. Woolworth would 
open one of his famous five-and-ten-cent emporiums 
in this hallowed region directly below Forty-second 
Street was not received with demonstrations of ap- 
proval. Fifth Avenue was born aristocratic, and 
though she may have fallen from her proud estate, 
she cannot forget what she once was, and fights stub- 
bornly the attempt to rob her entirely of her de- 
parted glory. 

V-The great Vanderbilt houses — four of them — still 
remain intact; the Huntington mansion, Robert 
Goelet's and a few others. With these exceptions, 
the utter ruin and demolition of this street as a 
social citadel is complete. Singularly enough 
Washington Square, where the avenue starts, defies 
the march of progress. The north side of this 
square and the few immediately adjoining blocks 
on the avenue proper are the same as when first 
erected. The modern artillery of business has so 
far failed to dislodge them, but dangerous salients 
surround them on every side. This last stand of 
the Knickerbockers is romantic and deserves to 
succeed, and will. 

A somewhat similar location was captured when 
Madison Square capitulated. Nothing is left of this 
region as it existed in the days of Flora McFlimsy. 
Gone are all the old homes, the famous hotels like 
the Fifth Avenue, the Albemarle, the Hoffman 
House, Delmonico's, the Brunswick and others. 
This used to be the most popular section of New 
York at night, but now society's old haunts have 
been replaced by cloak and suit lofts, and there is 
naught to entice a man to Madison Square after 
dark. 



82 NJEW YOBK OF TO-DAY 

Madison Square and Its Soap-Box Orators 

(The large open space extending from Fifth to 
Madison Avenue has greatly increased its function 
as a people's forum since the opening of the present 
war. In some unaccountable manner it is the chosen 
ground of the soap-box orators on all subjects. And 
stranger still is the fact that they never lack for an 
audience, no matter what the time of day. The 
noon hour is the period of their greatest activity. 
Crowds gather at short intervals and vehement 
speakers denounce the present state of affairs, so- 
cial, political and spiritual. Nothing is right. Ice 
should be plentiful in summer and roses in winter. 
This government is no good, no government is any 
good, and labor is prostrate and bleeding at the feet 
of capital. 

Of late the plain clothes men from the police 
department have been more active than usual, 
especially since the war began with Germany. 
The moment one of these orators makes a di- 
rect and positively treasonable utterance against 
the Government he is promptly yanked off the soap 
box and ignominiously thrust into a waiting patrol 
wagon. His place, however, is soon filled by another 
equally virulent successor who scowls at the police 
and comes as near as he dares to insulting them. 
Who pays all these speakers is a mystery. They 
are at it all day long and they never pass the hat. 
It seems better to let them have a safety valve than 
suppress them altogether in the opinion of the au- 
thorities, and no doubt this policy is correct. They 
are an interesting feature of the streets of New York 
and provide for the stranger a moment of passing 
interest. J 




Fifth Avenue from 34th Street, looking north as far as Central Park. 

The church in the center is the Brick Presbyterian. 
The building with the marble pillars is the Columbia Trust Company. 



NSW YORK OF TO-DAY 87 

Directly opposite tlie park at Fifty-nintli Street 
there seems some prospect of checking the onrush 
of business. For the moment it is halted, and 
beyond the Metropolitan Club at Sixtieth Street 
the attack has not yet commenced. It appears to be 
secure for the next decade at least. 

In the annals of old New York Fifth Avenue 
will ever remain a bright particular star. If it has 
taken on a new and different phase of life it is per- 
haps one of greater service to the people. In its 
new career it typifies the spirit of the great city in 
which it has so long borne a distinguished part. 
What society has lost business has gained, and busi- 
ness is the life of the metropolis. 

The stranger who has walked up and down the 
avenue must have been impressed first with the 
outward and visible signs of abimdant means, and 
second with the vivacity and bouyancy everywhere 
displayed. ISTew York is without doubt to-day the 
richest city in the world, and is growing richer every 
year. The people reflect that freedom from sordid 
care which is the result of an easy mind. And the 
dominant characteristic of the New Yorker is his 
evident desire to amuse and be amused. That he is 
a pleasure-loving animal cannot be disputed. The 
whole town is redolent of gaiety. Nowhere else in 
the world do so many people dine in restaurants, 
hotels and roof gardens. This is not conducive to 
rigid economy. But the good cheer, the light-heart- 
edness is typical of New York after business hours, 
and this apparently riotous spirit is a perfectly 
legitimate inheritance bequeathed us by our rollick- 
ing, freebooting, piratical ancestors. For New York 
was a wild seafaring town in its early days, and 



88 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

many a "gentleman's adventure" set forth from 
these shores to the Spanish Main. Costly silks, rare 
jewels, exquisite perfumes and spices were not un- 
known in Colonial New York. So this life of bar- 
baric garishness, as our country cousins say, has 
a perfectly natural origin. The existence of per- 
fectly enormous wealth must inevitably color every- 
thing more or less in a city like IsTew York. 

There was a time when there was no income tax 
in this country, and when it first became a law the 
Supreme Court declared it unconstitutional. That 
would have been the end of it had not some bright 
mind called the attention of Congress to the fact 
that in the event of such a law being passed about 
ninety per cent, of it would be collected in New 
York. It takes two-thirds of the States to pass a 
veto over the head of the Supreme Court and sev- 
eral years' time. In this case, however, the various 
legislatures acted promptly in giving the necessary 
majorities to the bill, and the discarded income tax 
speedily became a law. 

LAdded to the millionaires of local residence there 
is a constant influx of temporary sojourners of the 
same class from other cities. They frankly come 
here to spend and to enjoy themselves. Money is 
therefore constantly in circulation and the town 
naturally receives the benefit. One result is the 
most wonderful hotels the world has ever seen. In 
point of pure luxury, of utter recklessness in the 
matter of cost, there are absolutely no hotels to 
compare with those in New York. Food may cost 
as much in other places, but there is something 
in addition to that in New York which is beyond 
money and beyond price. Mere man cannot provide 



^m: 



'M 




by Alice Heath for "New York of Today" — Copyriffht 1917 

THE PLAZA AT FIFTH AVE.-VANDERBlLt HOUSE IN DISTANCE 



NEW YORKS TRIBUTE TO THE ALLIED WAR COMMISSIONS 



these sliores to 

jewels. --■:;■-■--"■ ,:, i, ; : , v,ka ■ 

knowi : :e »)£ bar- 

biiric ga-iisHiixu -.sins say, has 

a perfectly no.;,.-: -. .iUmce of per- 

fecily enormous weuitli iuusfc inevits-ibly color every- 
thing more or kss J . .u cilv like I^Tew York 

Therc! was u vas no iiicome tax 

in this country, «. .^.vo became a law the 

Supremo Court deo unconstitutioiial. That 

would have been the qhx yi h h. ' ■■ ino bright 

mind called the aiteotiou of C the fact 

that in the event of such a law being passed about 
ninety per cent, of it would be collected in Ne^" 
York. 'U takes two-thirdB of the States to pass a 
veto over the ho'>-'' --'^ ^lie Supro^i''"^ r>. i-t >!nn^ c-^, .. 
era! years' tini< i amf^ 1 

legislatures actv:>; i '- M,.-ot;ftw:iiv 

maioritiea to the bi jcoine tax 



me 

■'orrio 



Ti ; 

most woafk;i:j:ii LO' -:>y).c has Ovt'^ 

point of pure liixu. cter reckles<»ii 



iAJ 



matter of cost, theiv^ aie absolutely no »i^}iij)^i 
compare with those in New York. Foiyd may co-^t 
as much in other places, but there is son- 
in addition to thBt ^n "^'^^^ T.>rk which is h- , 
money and,beyon<.i c lan ca-i^nqt p^:)viui;; 

>HAT8ia HI 3aUOH TJiaF13aHAV-.3VA HT3R TA ASAJq 3HT 

eHOlSaiMMOD raw QBUJA 3HT OT BTUSIflT a-MflOY W3H 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 89 

gaiety, cheerfulness, enjoyment and laughter simply 
by ordering it. That is a thing of the spirit ; that is 
the fleeting emotion of the hour in !N'ew York, and 
it is found nowhere else in the country. A full- 
dress suit on a New Yorker does not suggest one 
of those solemn functions that elsewhere mark our 
progress from the cradle to the grave, like a mar- 
riage or the annual trade dinner. It signifies what 
it ought to signify — a change from business. 
Neither is it worn stiffly like a suit of shining armor 
on a knight of old. It is an habitual garment, befits 
him accordingly, and his silk topper does not weigh 
him down with an undue sense of responsibility. 

Except in London full dress in the evening is 
more generally worn by men in New York than in 
any other city. Nor does it excite surprise among 
the rest of the community. There are also dozens 
of places where diners are not expected to appear 
except in formal clothes. No one will exactly deny 
you admission unless so attired, but you will wait 
long — ^very long — for a table. ~} 




CHAPTEE Y 

RIVERSIDE DRIVE 

This 'beautiful; section^' begina at Soventy-second 
Street and stretches north, along the Hudson River 
to the end of the island at Inwood Park. Some 
years ago the city condemned the land immediately 
adjoining the river and commenced the construction 
of a public park, which is now in process of exten- 
sion and completion. The tracks of the 'New York 
Central, unfortunately, run along the river at this 
point and make a discordant feature in the land- 
scape which would otherwise be a thoroughfare 
equalling in beauty the famous Thames embank- 
ment. 

Realizing this situation, the railroad recently 
agreed to plans which, if carried out, would make 
the river front in this section one of the fa- 
vored spots of the world. The tracks would 
be entirely under cover, the landscape terraced 
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Woman Suffrage Parade— passing New York Public Library. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 95 

to tHe river, and adorned with slirubs and 
flowers. All unsightly docks, coal pickets and 
piers now existing would be changed into struc- 
tures of beauty, as well as utility. Any other 
municipality in the world would jump at such a 
chance, but 'New York is very short-sighted in some 
respects and because the railroad has voluntarily 
agreed to these plans, and to expend large sums to 
carry them into effect, the public think there must 
be an African in the wood-pile somewhere, and has 
for the moment rejected the plan. 

Now that Mr. Kockefeller, by his generous gift, 
has added Fort Tryon Park to the Eiverside Exten- 
sion, this improvement becomes more necessary than 
ever. It is to be hoped that the work will com- 
mence at once. It is sorely needed. 

Meanwhile the drive is adding to its attractive- 
ness by the addition of more noted buildings, monu- 
ments and private residences, and is fast becoming 
the most beautiful as well as interesting park in 
the city. All the diverting panorama of marine 
life on the river is spread before the eyes of the 
onlooker from Eiverside Drive. An anchorage for 
the Atlantic division of the !N"avy extends along 
the shore from ISTinetieth Street up to Spuyten 
Duyvil. When the fleet is home the scene is one 
of exhilaration and the Jackies are popular heroes. 

The broad tree-shaded boulevard, the pedestrian 
walks, the bridle paths and the swiftly moving pro- 
cession of shining automobiles all tend to make the 
drive a popular resort for the people of the city 
on holidays and special occasions. No buildings 
are permitted except on the east side, and the at- 
tractive outlook provided by the Hudson Eiver has 



96 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

brought together a number of well-to-do families 
who have erected beautiful homes in this part of 
the city. And the apartments which also line the 
drive are of a distinctly superior type. One of the 
most interesting of the former is the home of 
Charles M. Schwab, at the corner of Seventy-third 
(Street. It has an added interest to 'New Yorkers 
from the fact that on the death of Mr. and Mrs. 
Schwab the house and grounds will revert to the 
city. The present value of the property is over 
$3,000,000. All along the drive are other notable 
houses, monuments and statues. The residence of 
the late Bishop Potter at Eighty-ninth Street, and 
next to the Schwab house, is one of the most beau- 
tiful. At Seventy-sixth Street is the Hamilton 
fountain, an ornate structure shaped as a drinking 
trough for horses. The Soldiers' and Sailors' Mon- 
ument, erected for those who fell in the Civil War, 
occupies a commanding bluff from which a splendid 
view of the river north and south may be obtained. 
In front of the monument, which is in the form of 
a Greek temple, with a peristyle of twelve Corin- 
thian columns, is a copy of Houdin's statue of 
Washington, a gift from school children. 

At Ninety-third Street is the new Joan of Arc 
statue, part of the pedestal being made from stone 
which came from the recently demolished prison at 
Rouen, in which the Maid of Orleans was confined. 
It is a beautiful work of art and is a great acquisi- 
tion to the city. At Mnety-sixth Street is the Cliff 
Apartment House, in which an attempt has been 
made to realize the appellation of cliff dwellings, 
often applied to apartments of New York. Above 
the second elevation is a frieze in low relief carry- 




@ AMKRKAN STl 



Diana's Tower on Madison Square Garden— seen from Fifth Avenue 
and Twenty-fourth Street. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 99 

ing out symbolically the mountain lions, rattle- 
snakes, buffaloes' skulls and other local environments 
of a genuine cliff dwelling in Arizona. It is a clever 
idea and never fails to attract attention. The old 
frigate Granite State occupies the space at the 
foot of Ninety-seventh Street with a seagoing vessel 
for practice lying beside her. It is now occupied 
by the First Battalion, l^aval Militia. At One 
Hundredth Street is the Firemen's Memorial, 
erected in memory of the many heroic deeds of the 
New York firemen, who daily risk their lives, and 
sometimes lose them, in the performance of their 
duty. At One Hundred and Sixth Street is the 
equestrian statue of that fine old German general, 
Franz Siegel, by Carl Bitter. From One Hundred 
and Sixteenth Street north is perhaps the finest view 
of the river. It reveals also the most beautiful part 
of the drive and shows row after row of apartment 
houses of the highest type both in architecture and 
appointments. At One Hundred and Twenty-second 
Street the drive widens out, enclosing a broad cen- 
tral triangle containing the chief point of interest 
along the whole length of the drive — Grant's Tomb. 
This is perhaps the best-known object in the coun- 
try from its frequent reproduction in postal cards, 
engravings, magazines and guide-books. It stands 
on an ideal site and is visible from many points on 
the harbor and river. It rises to a height of one 
hundred and fifty feet. It was built by the 
public, ninety thousand persons contributing vari- 
ous sums, but none was allowed to give more 
than $5,000. The mausoleum is open from 10 
A. M. to 5 P .M. It contains the bodies of Gen- 
eral Grant and his wife. The large number of 



100 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

battle flags and memorials in the interior are of 
great interest. 

The material used in building it was specially se- 
lected, only large and flawless blocks of white granite 
being used, and cost $600,000. The entrance is from 
the south side. The decorative sculpture is em- 
blematical of the birth, the military and civil life 
and the death of the great Union General. The 
sarcophagus containing the body rests in the open 
crypt and is made of a single piece of red granite 
bearing the name 



ULYSSES S. GRANT 



supported by a granite pedestal. North of the tomb 
is the gingko tree sent by Li Hung Chang, the great 
Chinese statesman and admirer of Grant. There is 
a tablet containing an account of this tribute ad- 
joining the tree. 

By a curious turn of fortune the great General's 
tomb is placed so that it seems to guard another 
little grave — that of a five-year-old child who died 
in 1797. It is the only grave except Grant's main- 
tained and cared for by the city in one of its public 
parks. It appears that in years gone by the land 
was owned by George Pollock in 1790. He after- 
wards returned to Ireland and subsequently sold the 
property to Cornelia Yerplanck — all but the little 
grave in which lay all that he had cared for in 
America. He sent money to erect a small fence and 
a headstone in which he carved his affection in the 
solitary line: 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 103 



TO AN AMIABLE CHILD. 



When condemnation proceedings were instituted 
to enable the city to acquire this land for a public 
park this curious indenture was encountered. Per- 
haps some sentimental feeling was aroused; at all 
events, the city accepted the land with the condition 
that the little grave of an amiable child must always 
be cared for, and there you will see it just north 
of Grant's Tomb. 
A building that is convenient to the tomb is the 
Olaremont restaurant, owned by the city and is 
one to which strangers frequently repair at this 
point of their travels. It is a very old building dat- 
ing back almost to the Revolution. It has had an 
interesting history. Yiscount Courtenay, who occu- 
pied it in 1807, viewed the trial trip of Fulton's 
Clermont from the veranda. In 1815 it became the 
abode of the Emperor ISTapoleon's brother Joseph. 
Quite a few changes have been made from time to 
time in portions of the building, but structurally it 
remains the same. A very good dinner may be had 
here amid pleasant surroundings. The viaduct 
crossing Manhattanville carries the drive to "Wash- 
ington Heights. Houses now practically disappear, 
and the view of the river and of the Palisades be- 
comes more beautiful. The busses, however, do not 
go farther than One Hundred and Thirty-fifth 
Street, and the rest of the distance must be made 
by private conveyance. You have, however, seen 
practically all that is to be seen of Piverside Drive, 
although the rural beauty of the drive from this 
point is very delightful. 



104 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

Just beyond the Drive, and what will soon be a 
continuation of it, is the beautiful new park re- 
cently presented to the city by Mr. John D. Kocke- 
feller, Jr. 

Mr. Eockefeller purchased three large parcels of 
property last fall facing the river just beyond the 
limits of the present Drive. The southernmost, and 
most valuable, was the estate of 0. K. G. Billings, 
the noted horseman. This contains a magnificent 
residence, as well as large stables, garages and a 
swimming pool. 

The whole tract of land is about two-thirds of a 
mile long. It begins at One Hundred and Ninety- 
third Street, runs northward and occupies all the 
territory between Broadway, on the east, and the ex- 
tension of Riverside Drive on the west. It is with- 
out doubt the most beautiful piece of land for a park 
that could well be imagined. The views are superb, 
commanding as they do a broad expanse of the 
Hudson, the Palisades, Westchester hills on the 
north and the great city to the south. It connects 
naturally with the beautiful Palisades Park directly 
opposite on the west bank of the river, with which 
it is joined by a ferry from the foot of Dyckman 
Street. This is easily one of the most important 
gifts ever made to the city and will be of inestimable 
benefit to all the people. 

This new park will be under the jurisdiction of 
the Interstate Palisade Park Commission and doubt- 
less future development will be in harmony with 
plans that will co-ordinate the best that is in each. 




CHAPTER YI 

THE MORRIS HOUSE OR JUMEL 
MANSION 

Washington's Headquarters on Washington 
Heights 

Commanding a superb view of the Harlem val- 
ley, looking south from One Hundred and Sixtieth 
Street and Jumel Place, stands what is easily the 
most important building, historically, in l^ew York 
— the Jumel Mansion. It is reached by the Broad- 
way subway. One Hundred and Fifty-seventh Street 
station; walk three blocks to the east. Also by the 
Sixth Avenue elevated, getting off at One Hun- 
dred and Pifty-fifth Street. 

The building was erected in 1765 by Lieut. Col. 
Roger Morris, of the British Porty-seventh Regi- 
ment and a member of the King's Co\m.cil. Morris 
and Washington were brothers in arms during the 
unfortunate attack on Port Du Quesne, in which 
107 



108 NEW YORE OF TO-DAY 

the former was wounded. It is also stated tliat 
Mrs. Morris refused the hand of Washington, 
preferring the dashing young soldier who wore the 
King's uniform. After the Eevolution the estate 
was confiscated and sold. Meanwhile it looms large 
in the pages of American history. 

It is the building most intimately connected with 
Washington in 'New York during hostilities. It 
was occupied by him as headquarters from Sep- 
tember 16 to October 21, 1776 — a period of over 
five weeks. Here he formed plans for the defence 
of the heights and considered measures for the 
blockade of the Hudson River. At the same time 
he issued the remarkable series of general orders 
now so eagerly read, and at the same time carried 
on the famous correspondence with William Duer, 
of the secret Committee of Safety. He had under 
him nearly 8,000 volunteers, for the larger part 
wholly untrained, undisciplined and about as 
motley a crew as ever gathered under any com- 
mander. 

Most of them enlisted for only about thirty days, 
and never troubled themselves to procure suitable 
uniforms. Notwithstanding their common love of 
country and undoubted patriotism, they were poor 
material out of which to oppose the regular trained 
troops of the British, and the result was a severe 
defeat for the Americans and the capture of Fort 
Washington. The prisoners were first assembled in 
the barns on the Morris place, and later trans- 
ferred to hulks and prison ships in New York. Dur- 
ing this exciting period the Morris House was the 
centre of operations, with Washington as first in 
command. Upon its surrender to the British, it 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 111 

was occupied by Lieut. General Sir Henry Clin- 
ton, and became the headquarters of the invaders 
all through the summer of 1777. In one of the 
rooms is shown an old table on which Andre wrote 
a letter to Arnold in the presence of his captors. 

After Sir Henry's occupancy, the house was used 
during the summer of 1778 and for the continua- 
tion of the war by the Hessian generals and their 
German staff. With the close of the Revolution 
the romance of the house for the moment ends, to 
be renewed at a later date by the wife of Stephen 
Jumel, a wealthy Frenchman who purchased the 
house in 1810. 

As in the case of all Royalists, the property of 
Roger Morris was confiscated and sold. In the days 
of its ill fortune it became an inn, known as Calu- 
met Hall, and was the first stop for a change of 
horses on the trip to Albany, being then eleven 
miles from the city proper. In 1790 it flashed 
forth for an instant in all its old-time splendor — 
the old Commander-in-chief and his cabinet, after 
a visit to Fort Washington, tarried here for din- 
ner "provided by a Mr. Marriner," as the old chron- 
icler records. Among the distinguished guests ac- 
companying the President were Alexander Hamil- 
ton, New York's first and greatest statesman, and 
Washington's chief councillor in the new govern- 
ment, who was then only about thirty years old; 
Thomas Jefferson, not yet the world-famous person- 
age in history he has since become as the author 
of the Declaration of Independence; General Knox, 
little ^N'ellie Custis, John Park Custis, John Adams, 
vice-president of the United States; Mrs. Adams 
and Mrs. Hamilton. Truly a notable gathering 



112 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

and well calculated to once again bring tlie old 
house to its old-time dignity. With the departure 
of these guests the fame of the old mansion seemed 
also to depart, and for nearly twenty years it stood 
neglected and forlorn. Its purchase by the wealthy 
merchant already mentioned served to restore its 
fallen fortunes for a period, as we find it for over 
fifty years occupying a conspicuous position in the 
annals of old New York. 

Jumel restored the mansion to the same condi- 
tion in which it was in Washington's time, thus 
performing a very valuable public service. When 
the house finally passed into the possession of the 
city for all time, it greatly simplified the work 
of preserving the restoration. 

During the Jumel occupation the old house con- 
tinued to add to its historic reputation. In 1815, 
after Waterloo, Jumel sailed for France for the 
purpose of bringing back the great l^apoleon here 
to end his days in exile. But the plan, failed and 
I^apoleon died in St. Helena. The Jumels brought 
back many presents from Napoleon and souvenirs 
of his reign. His campaigning trunk, a chariot 
clock from the Tuilleries, a table painted by Jose- 
phine and numerous pieces of furniture remained 
in the house as late as 1889. Stephen Jumel died 
in 1832 and was buried in old St. Patrick's Cathe- 
dral, then in Prince Street. 

The next year all New York was stirred by the 
news that Mme. Jumel had married the notori- 
ous Aaron Burr. Since the duel with Hamilton, 
Burr's fortunes had fallen to a low ebb and the 
marriage was looked upon as a money-making 




Wall Street, looking west to Trinity Church — Bankers' Trust Com- 
pany and Ek}uitable Buildings on the right. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 115 

scheme. The union did not last long and a sep- 
aration and divorce soon followed. Mme. Jumel 
died in 1865, surviving by many years all who con- 
nected the Morris House with the Eevolution, and 
was buried in old Trinity Cemetery, at One Hun- 
dred and Fifty-fifth Street and Broadway, but a 
slight distance from the old home in which for 
so many years she was so prominent a figure. 
Louis Napoleon, Jerome and Joseph Bonaparte were 
at times her guests, besides other noted French 
emigres. 

A niece of Mme. Jumel then occupied the house 
for many years. Her husband studied law with 
Burr, and his friends included N. P. Willis and 
his sister Fanny Fern, James Porter, the poet; 
Mrs. Blennerhasset and many other literary friends. 
Fitz-Greene Halleck, on one of his many visits 
here, wrote his most famous poem, "Marco Boz- 
zaris," on a stone in the rear of the house which 
is still pointed out. 

By this time the people of New York became 
aroused to the historic importance of this house, 
and after many attempts the property was finally 
secured through the Washington Heights Chapter 
of the Daughters of the American Eevolution, as- 
sisted by the Society of the Sons of the Eevolu- 
tion. The city ultimately purchased the property 
and formally opened it under the control of the 
Park Department. In 1907 the Washington Head- 
quarters Association of New York and the Society 
of the Daughters of the American Eevolution ac- 
quired the use of the house for a museum of his- 
toric relics and furnishings of the period of the 



116 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

Revolution. Eacli room now contains many inter- 
esting items and is designated by name, so that 
the contents are readily identified. 

The most important room is called the Council 
Chamber, and is the large room at the back of the 
hall. In Washington's time it was known as the 
Court Martial Boom, and contains one of Wash- 
ington's china plates decorated with the insignia of 
the Cincinnati. In this room Washington received 
visits of the sachems of the Five Nations who 
offered their allegiance to the American cause. The 
Guard Room has many relics discovered in the past 
few years by Mr. Reginald Pelliam Bolton, whose 
work in this field has been unique and wonderfully 
successful. He and Mr. Calver, another enthusiast, 
have uncovered a very goodly number of old camp 
sites, graves and other hidden treasures of Revo- 
lutionary days, bringing to light muskets, buttons, 
old cooking utensils, uniforms, coins, etc. Their 
work has extended all over the field of the battles 
of Fort George, Harlem Heights, Fort Tryon and 
the Dyckman Farm, and their results have added 
much to our collections of memorabilia of these 
trying days. 

Washington's bedroom is, of course, an object of 
particular interest. There are few remaining 
houses where the father of his country slept for 
so many nights as in the Morris House. This 
room is now furnished with colonial furniture, of 
a character the same as used by Washington while 
here. The office is also interesting, as indeed is 
every room which the commander-in-chief is known 
to have occupied personally. 

The Lafayette Room is on the second floor and 




The fine Portico of St. Mark's Church, Eleventh Street and Second 

Avenue, showing the famous lions at the entrance. 

Governor Stuyvesant is buried here and also G<^«\'^rnor Siloug^ter. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 119 

contains the ricHy carved bed and sofa actually- 
used by Lafayette on bis visit to Charleston, S. C, 
and one of his gloves. On the second floor in the 
hall is a copy of the flag usedi by Washington two 
and a half years before the making of Betsy Eoss' 
design. It is the English flag, with red and white 
stripes substituted for the plain red field. Other 
important items in the house is the Washington 
table from Fraunces Tavern, Aaron Burr's trunk, 
Governor Bradford's punch bowl, Governor Trum- 
bull's chair and many other colonial relics appro- 
priately disposed throughout the building. 

The view from the piazza of the house is also 
an important feature of a visit to this famous old 
mansion. One sees, of course, not the beautiful 
landscape spread out before the eyes of Washington 
and his generals, but instead the populous city of 
New York. The bridges in the foreground, the 
huge high buildings in the distance, the rumble 
of the cars across the river, all serve to start a 
train of thought that is curious in its effect. 

The run up to the old headquarters takes not 
over haK an hour and is worth the time. In Trin- 
ity Cemetery (this must not be confused with Trin- 
ity Grave Yard, downtown), not far from the Jumel 
Mansion, are also many interesting things to see. 
The late John Jacob Astor, who perished on the 
Titanic, is buried here, as is also Audubon, the 
great naturalist, and Clement Moore, who wrote that 
pretty little poem known by children the world over, 
"'Twas the Night before Christmas" 




CHAPTEE YII 
FAMOUS CHURCHES IN NEW YORK 



New York has some very famous sacred edifices. 
Unquestionably tlie one which appeals most to 
strangers is the historic Gothic pile at the head of 
Wall Street on Broadway — old Trinity, which we 
have described elsewhere. Next in popular interest 



comes 



St. Paul's Chapel 



St. Paul's Chapel, on Broadway between Yesey 
and Fulton streets, is of sufficient historical interest 
to deserve a short chapter by itself. Curiously 
enough, the Broadway end of the building is the 
rear, for the church was built fronting on the river ; 
and in the old days a pleasant lawn sloped down to 
the water's edge, which was then on the line of 
Greenwich Street. One effect of St. Paul's thus 
looking away from Broadway, is to give us at the 
portal an increased sense of remoteness from the 
120 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 121 

great thorougMare and of isolation from its stren- 
uous life, so that all tlie more readily we yield to 
the pervading spell of the churchyard's peaceful 
calm. 

St. Paul's is a cherished relic of Colonial days. 
Built in 1766 as a chapel of Trinity Parish, it is the 
only church edifice which has been preserved from 
the pre-Eevolutionary period. After the burning of 
Trinity in 1776, St. Paul's became the parish 
church; here worshipped Lord Howe and Major 
Andre and the English midshipman who was after- 
ward King George lY. After his inauguration at 
Federal Hall in Wall Street, President Washington 
and both houses of Congress came in solemn proces- 
sion to St. Paul's, where service was conducted by 
Bishop Provost, Chaplain of the Senate, and a Te 
Deum was sung. Thereafter, so long as New York 
remained the capital, the President was a regular 
attendant here; his diary for Sunday after Sunday 
contains the entry: "Went to St. Paul's Chapel in 
the forenoon." Washington's pew remains to-day 
as it was then; it is midway of the church on the 
left aisle, and is marked by the Arms of the United 
States on the wall. Across the church is the pew 
which was reserved for the Governor of the State, 
and was occupied by Governor Clinton; above it 
are the State Arms. The pulpit canopy is orna- 
mented with the gilded crest of the Prince of Wales, 
a crown surmounted by three ostrich feathers. It 
is the only emblem of royalty that escaped destruc- 
tion at the hands of the Patriots when they came 
into possession of the city in 1783. 

In the wall of the Broadway portico, where it is 
seen from the street and is observed by innumerable 



122 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

eyes daily, is the Montgomery Momiment, in memory 
of Major-General Eichard Montgomery, of Eevolu- 
tionary fame. It consists of a mural tablet bearing 
an urn upon a pedestal supported by military ac- 
coutrements. General Montgomery commanded tbe 
expedition against Canada in 1775, and on December 
31st of that year, in company with Colonel Benedict 
Arnold, led the assault upon Quebec. Just after 
the exclamation, "Men of New York, you will follow 
where your general leads!" he fell, mortally 
wounded. Aaron Burr bore his body from the field, 
and the Englishmen gave it a soldier's burial in the 
city. Forty-three years later, in 1818, Canada sur- 
rendered the remains to the United States. 

The monument had been ordered by Congress as 
early as 1776. It was bought by Benjamin Franklin 
in Paris, and was shipped to America on a privateer. 
A British gunboat captured the privateer, and in 
turn was taken by an American vessel, and so at 
last the monument reached its destination. The 
inscription reads: 

This Monument is erected hy order of Con- 
gress 25th Janry, 1776, to transmit to Posterity 
a grateful remembrance of the patriotic conduct, 
enterprise and perseverance of Major General Rich- 
ard Montgomery, who after a series of successes 
amidst the most discouraging Dijjiculties Fell in the 
attach on Quebec 31st Dechr, 1775. Aged 37 years. 

The State of New Yorh caused the remains of 
Majr. Genl. Richard Montgomery to he conveyed 
from^ Quebec and deposited beneath this monument 
the 8th day of July, 1818. 

At that time Mrs. Montgomery, in the forty-third 




St. John's Chapel, Varick Street — at one time the center of New 
York's finest residential section. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 125 

year of her widowhood, was living near Tarrytown 
on the Hudson. Governor Clinton had told her 
of the day when the steamboat Richmond, bearing 
her husband's remains, would pass down the river; 
and sitting alone on the piazza of her home she 
watched for its coming. With what emotions she 
saw the pageant is told in a letter written to her 
niece : 

"At length they came by with all that remained 
of a beloved husband, who left me in the bloom of 
manhood, a perfect being. Alas! how did he re- 
turn? However gratifying to my heart, yet to my 
feelings every pang I felt was renewed. The pomp 
with which it was conducted added to my woe ; when 
the steamboat passed with slow and solemn move- 
ment, stopping before my house, the troops under 
arms, the Dead March from the muffled drums, the 
mournful music, the splendid coffin canopied with 
crepe and crowned with plumes, you may conceive 
my anguish. I cannot describe it." 

The most conspicuous monuments in the church- 
yard near Broadway are those of Thomas Addis Em- 
met and Dr. William J. MacNevin, both of whom 
participated in the Irish rebellion of 1798, came to 
IS'ew York and achieved distinction, Emmet at the 
bar and Macl^evin in medicine. The inscriptions 
are in English, Celtic and Latin. West^ of the 
church is the urn with flames issuing from it, which 
marks the resting place of George Frederick Cooke, 
the distinguished tragedian; born in England 1756; 
died in 'New York 1812. The monument was erected 
in 1821 by the great English actor, Edmund Kean, 
and has been the subject of pious care by Charles 
Kean, who restored it in 1846, Edward A. Sothern 



126 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

in 1874 and Edwin Bootli in 1890. The epitaph is 
by Fitz-Greene Halleek: 

Three Kingdoms claim his hirth. 
Both hemispheres pronounce his worth. 

St. Paul's is dear to the heart of every New 
Yorker and will ever so remain. 

St. Peter's, a block or two from St. Paul's on 
Barclay Street, is the oldest Catholic church in the 
city, and it still holds services in its original loca- 
tion. With these few exceptions the other impor- 
tant churches are far uptown. 

St. Thomas's, on the corner of Fifth Avenue and 
Fifty-sixth Street; St. Bartholomew's, on Madison 
Avenue and Forty-fourth Street; the First Baptist 
Church, popularly known as "Rockefeller's Church" ; 
St. Andrew's, St. Patrick's, Temple Emanuel, Cath- 
edral of St. John the Divine, are all noted struc- 
tures. A special feature of the services is the music, 
which is of an unusually high order of excellence. 
Grace Church, at Tenth Street, and St. Mark's, near 
Second Avenue, where Governor Stuyvesant is 
buried, are also in the public eye, and are attended 
by many of the oldest families. 

"The Little Church Around the Corner" is a fa- 
miliar name for the Church of the Transfiguration, 
on East Twenty-ninth Street, near Fifth Avenue. 
The story goes that when in 1871 Joseph Jefferson 
endeavored to arrange for the funeral of George 
Holland, a brother actor, at a church on Madison 
Avenue, the pastor said that he could not hold burial 
services over the body of an actor, "But," he added, 
"there is a little church around the corner you can 
go to." "Then all honor to the little church around 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 129 

tlie corner," replied Jefferson. "We will go there." 
From tliat time the clinrcli and its rector, Kev. 
George H. Houghton (who died in 1897), were held 
in affectionate regard by the theatrical profession. 
Many actors have been buried from the church, 
among them Lester Wallack, Dion Boucicault and 
Edwin Booth. There is a memorial window given 
by the Players (the actors' club), in loving memory 
of Booth. 

John Street Methodist Church 

The John Street M. E. Church, at 44 John 
Street, called the "Cradle of American Methodism," 
is the oldest Methodist Church in America. It was 
founded by Philip Embury in 1766 ; the first edifice 
was erected in 1768, a second one on the same site 
in 1817, and the present structure! in 1841. There 
are treasured here Philip Embury's Bible, Bishop 
Asbury's chair and the clock which John Wesley 
sent over from England, and which still ticks off the 
time. 

There are over a thousand different churches in 
New York, the Christian Science being the latest 
addition. Their buildings deserve special notice by 
reason of their wonderful architectural beauty. In 
nearly all the hotels there is a church bulletin issued 
weekly, which gives the pastor's name, location of 
church, and in some instances the subject for the 
coming Sunday. These should be consulted by the 
stranger, as well as the religious columns in the 
Saturday evening paper s,v which contain all the 
latest church news. 




CHAPTER VIII 



GREENWICH VILLAGE 



This is one of the best advertised sections of our 
little community and displays almost as much skill 
in getting on the front page as Colonel Eoosevelt. 
To the New Yorker ,»it is rather a pleasant retreat, 
altogether too far downtown for residential purposes, 
hence abandoned to those queer people who like to 
go around in sculptors' aprons, long hair and soft 
slouch hats, or none at all. It prides itself upon 
its Bohemianism, its art and its general superiority 
to the average citizen. To the credit of Greenwich 
Village, however, let it be said that it does not take 
itself half so seriously as the rest of the city thinks 
it does. There are quite a number of creditable 
performers in the art line in their midst, and pub- 
licity never did an artist any harm in the world. 
So the succession of "fakirs' balls," "costume par- 
ties," etc., are to a certain extent strictly business. 
130 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 133 

They are accorded mucli valuable space in the dailies 
and everybody's name who is at all well known is 
sure to be included among those present. They are 
a harmless lot, and the city reads of their pranks 
with a smile of indulgence. 

The village, however, is, or at least was, a genuine 
sure-enough village at one time, and commenced 
its separate existence almost contemporary with New 
York itself. It was originally an Indian village, 
through which flowed a very pretty stream called 
Minetta Water. This brook had its rise near 
Twenty-first Street on Fifth Avenue, flowed south- 
erly to about Washington Square (the heart of 
Greenwich Village) and then westerly to the Hud- 
son. Its sandy soil seemed to give it immunity from 
yellow fever, the scourge of ISTew York in early days, 
in consequence of which large migrations to the 
village from IN'ew York were made in times of a 
visitation of this dreaded disease. 

The beginning of the village as an English settle- 
ment dates practically from the settlement of Ad- 
miral Sir Peter Warren, a retired naval officer who 
built a house on a three-hundred-acre farm pur- 
chased by him located about where is now Perry and 
Charles streets. The gridiron plan of squaring all 
streets, adopted by the commissioners in 1811, cre- 
ated a queer state of affairs among the cowpaths 
and cross-lots roads that formed the streets of 
Greenwich. Consequently you can now walk along 
West Fourth Street and presently cross at right 
angles Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth streets. The 
opening for the new Seventh Avenue subway has 
still further complicated the situation, so that a 
man walking up one side of a street in the village 



134 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

is quite apt to meet himself coming down the other. 
The isolation of this part of town and its individ- 
uality preserved for it an identity that it has never 
quite lost. It is still Greenwich Village to ISTew 
Yorkers, and it is well understood that it begins a 
little below Washington Square, extends north to 
Fourteenth Street and west to the river. The east- 
ern side of the square also marked the limit of the 
village in that direction.„A 

For many years it was also known as the "Amer- 
ican Ward" — the good old ninth — on account of the 
almost exclusively native-born population. During 
the Civil War one of the biggest regiments was sent 
from this ward, and in a large measure (though it 
now has a great foreign population) it still strives 
to keep alive the old patriotism, and it has several 
live organizations to teach the foreigner all about 
his new country and make him a loyal citizen. 

There are quite a number of interesting relics in 
the old village. At ^N'o. 4 Charles Street still stands 
the wide three-story brick house at one time occu- 
pied by William Astor, brother of the first John 
Jacob Astor. The house where Tom Paine lived 
for a time is also shown. The Eichmond Hill resi- 
dence of Aaron Burr and the house from which he 
left to meet Hamilton for the fatal duel was also 
here. It was visited by Talleyrand, by Jerome 
ITapoleon and many prominent men in American 
politics. The old Grove Street Public School 
(ISTo. 3) is also one of its precious possessions, and 
at No. 15 Commerce Street lived the sister of Wash- 
ington Irving. On West Christopher Street, be- 
tween West and Weehawken streets, is a row of very 
old wooden buildings, among the oldest on the island. 




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NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 137 

They are shown on old city maps as far back as 
1763, which is very old for I^ew York. 

Sir Peter's daughters all married Englishmen; 
one of them the Earl of Abingdon; one Charles 
Eitzroy, later Baron Southampton, and the third 
Sir William Skinner. All these names are perpetu- 
ated in Abingdon Koad, Skinner Eoad and Eitzroy 
Road, formerly well known in the village, but now 
obsolete with the exception of Abingdon, which still 
clings to the park facing Eighth Avenue and the 
square. West of Abingdon Square at I^o. 82 was 
the home of William Bayard, where Alexander Ham- 
ilton breathed his last after having been brought 
over from Weehawken. (1 Eacing the river is Ganse- 
voort market, at one time site of a fort, and 
one of the principal markets. The north side of 
Washington Square is still one of the more exclusive 
society localities in the city, and the two blocks east 
and west of Eifth Avenue contain more well-known 
Knickerbocker families than almost any other sec- 
tion of New York. The avenue itself up to Eleventh 
Street and in the side streets in both directions 
near the avenue is also the abiding place of some 
of the oldest families. 

There is lacking neither birth nor wealth in 
old Greenwich even to this day and in addi- 
tion to its colony of God-gifted geniuses it has 
also a wonderfully exclusive social atmosphere 
of its own. Singularly enough, the two sides 
of the sphere dwell together in harmony and 
mutual respect, and both are proud of Green- 
wich Village. Most of the studios are located in 
Macdougal Alley, which is something else not 
found in New York except in Greenwich Village. 



138 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

Years ago the stables connected witli tlie great 
houses facing the square were directly in the rear, 
but not connected with the grounds of the houses 
proper. A carriage street, running at the back, 
with an entrance on MacDougal Alley, housed the 
stables. It is these old stables that have now been 
turned into studios by wealthy artists under the 
leadership of Mrs. Whitney, and exhibitions in this 
part of town are well attended by those "in the 
know." Others who avoid side streets pass them by. 
Some wonderful work has been produced in this 
section of the town, and a flourishing society for the 
encouragement of young native artists has also 
proved of practical worth."'! 

The chief pride and glo"^ of the village is, of 
course, the beautiful Washington Arch designed by 
the late Stanford White, erected and paid for by 
a few neighbors along Fifth Avenue adjoining the 
square and the old-timers living along the north 
side. It celebrates the centennial of Washington's 
inauguration and was the idea of William Ehine- 
lander Stewart and his friends who live here. In 
the park is a statue of Garibaldi, once a resident of 
IsTew York, and a bust of Holley, inventor of Bes- 
semer steel. At the northeast corner is one of 
the buildings of the ^ew York University, the main 
college being .at University Heights, where its Hall 
of Fame attracts much attention. In the old college 
building, which faced the park on the east, quite 
some distinction was gained for it by some of the 
faculty — Morse being one who experimented with his 
telegraph while on the staff, and Draper, who per- 
fected the daguerreotype and took here the first 
image of a human face, the original photograph be- 




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NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 141 

ing now in tlie British Museum. So, you see, Green- 
wich Village is quite a place, and you cannot blame 
I^ew Yorkers for having a rather warm spot in their 
hearts for the only village now left standing, as it 
were, in the whole city. 

The recent "Festa" given by the villagers in Mac- 
Dougal Alley for the Red Cross fund was an event 
which attracted attention the country over. I^o such 
artistic achievement was ever before recorded even 
by those doughty villagers themselves, and the 
amount of public interest was shown by the attend- 
ance, which was so great as to call for a force of 
police resei'ves to keep the crowd in line. 

Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney, Mrs. W. K. Yander- 
bilt, Jr., Mrs. Guinness, Mrs. Maynard, Mrs. Delano 
and a host of nation-wide-known women in society 
headed the affair, and many thousands of dollars 
were raised for the fund. It is the backing of such 
names as these that creates the spell which fasci- 
nates the outside world. 

Altogether Greenwich Yillage is a section of our 
town of which we are all very proud, and we freely 
forgive their somewhat pardonable weakness for 
space on the front page. 




CHAPTER IX 

PLACES OF HISTORIC INTEREST 

The stranger in New York will find many places 
of historic interest on the island. But few build- 
ings remain, however, of pre-Revolutionary origin, 
and of the Dutch occupancy not a trace is left. 
The site of Fort Am.sterdam is now occupied by the 
Custom House at the foot of Broadway, in the cor- 
ridor of which is a brass tablet recording the his- 
tory of the site, and in the adjoining rooms ten 
large mural decorations depict the fort as it orig- 
inally appeared and, in addition, Bowling Green 
and eight colonial ports of the seventeenth century. 
The little oval space in front of the Custom House 
is the famous Bowling Green, once the heart of 
'New Amsterdam and the centre of our greater New 
York of to-day. It figures largely in the history 
of old New York, being first a public market and 
then a park. It was a common meeting place for 
the citizens, and in the centre stood a large leaden 
142 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 145 

statue of George tlie third on horseback, which, was 
torn down by the Sons of Liberty in the Kevo- 
lution. 

Battery Park, back of the Custom House, facing 
the bay, is made ground, and received its name from 
a battery of guns erected here by the British in 
1776. Opposite the west side of the Custom House 
is the Fort George monument, erected in 1818, to 
mark the southwest bastion of Fort George, as Fort 
Amsterdam was called when it came under English 
rule. 

State Street, facing the park, was at one time 
the most fashionable residential section of the city. 
Robert Fulton discussed many of the problems con- 
nected with the Clermont in Chancellor Livingston's 
house, at ISTo. 3. The house at No. 7 is supposed 
to be the one which figures in H, C. Bunner's fa- 
mous "Story of a New York House," and was occu- 
pied by Moses Rogers, a famous merchant in those 
days. Archibald Gracie, Robert Lenox, James D. 
WoK, Thomas W. Ludlow, Joseph Phoenix and 
others equally prominent made up the rest of this 
block. 

No more delightful location for residences in New 
York can be found to-day. The park was filled with 
tall poplars and elms and the birds were numerous. 
At night an impromptu concert was a common oc- 
currence, negro boatmen with banjos, lying a short 
distance from the shore road, furnishing the music 
in return for a few coppers tossed to the boats. It 
was a delightful spot and fought a valiant though 
losing fight against the steady encroachment of 
business. 

The view of New York Bay from the Battery is 



146 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

one of the most entrancing marine pictures to be 
found in this or any other country. The wonder- 
fully clear atmosphere which prevails in ISTew York 
adds enchantment to the sparkle of the green waters 
of the sea, and the constant movement of the ships 
make a scene never to be forgotten. The huge At- 
lantic liners here make their last adieus to IsTew York 
before starting on their long journey across the 
ocean, and here again the eye of the returning trav- 
eller is gladdened by the first sight of land. The 
best known young lady in ISTew York is just in 
front of you — Miss Liberty — and behind her is the 
Ellis Island you read about so often in the papers. 
To the left is Governor's Island, General Bell's 
headquarters, and on the mainland in front of you 
is the emigrant landing stage, where all foreigners 
are finally permitted to land after having passed a 
satisfactory examination at the Island. 

On the right is another very interesting build- 
ing — the Aquarium. This fort — for such it was 
originally — was built during the war of 1812 to de- 
fend ^N'ew York from attack by sea. It then stood 
about 300 feet from the shore and was named Castle 
Clinton, after DeWitt Clinton, one of our leading 
citizens at that time, and builder of the Erie Canal. 
In later years it was leased to the city for a pub- 
lic amusement hall and became known as Castle 
Garden. Here Lafayette was welcomed in 1824, and 
in 1850 Jenny Lind sang here io the delight of 
multitudes under the management of P. T. Barnum. 
In '51 Louis Kossuth was received, and soon after 
it became what Ellis Island now is — the receiving 
station for emigrants. It is not beyond the truth 
to say that this old building is the best known struc- 




St. Paul's Church and Park Row — Woolworth Building on 
Municipal Building on right, in distance. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 149 

ture in America. Millions of men and women 
passed throngli its portals from 1855 to 1891, and 
they are to-day scattered in every part of the Union. 
They not only remember Castle Garden themselves, 
bnt have spoken of it many times to their chil- 
dren, and so it is probably quite true to speak of 
it as the best known building in America. 

In 1896 it was opened as an aquarium, and in 
1902 was turned over to the care of the ISTew York 
Zoological Gardens, under whose jurisdiction it now 
is. Its collection of tropical fishes is wonderful. Its 
seals, octopuses, devil fish and other rare specimens 
attract a large attendance, the total exceeding two 
millions a year. Open from 9 A. M. to 5 P. M. Ad- 
mission free. 

E"ot far from the Aquarium stands the statue of 
John Ericsson, inventor of the Monitor, and saviour 
of New York from bombardment by the Merrimac, 
which he defeated in Hampton Eoads during the 
Eebellion. Ericsson's invention ended wooden war- 
ships and ushered in the iron-clad. A little south 
of the Ericsson statue is the flagstaff where for- 
merly stood the British flag at the time of the evacu- 
ation in 1783. Yan Arsdale, an American, climbed 
the pole which the British had greased, and suc- 
ceeded in lowering the flag before the enemy had 
all departed. Each anniversary of this event now 
sees a descendant of Yan Asdale run up the Amer- 
ican flag at the earliest moment permissible on 
Evacuation Day. 

ISTot far from this flagstaff is a statue, erected by 
the Italians of our city in 1909 to Yerrazano, to 
commemorate his visit to New York Harbor in 1524. 
All around the neighborhood are various tablets. 



150 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

erected by patriotic societies to commemorate some 
noted site in the past history of the city. 

Leaving the vicinity of the old fort, we go along 
Pearl Street a short distance, till we come to the 
corner of Broad, where stands perhaps the most 
interesting building in N'ew York, with the possible 
exception of the Jumel Mansion on Washington 
Heights — Fraunces' Tavern. 

This building is the headquarters of the Sons of 
the Revolution, and on the second floor occurred 
that memorable parting between Washington and 
his officers in December, 1783. The entire build- 
ing has been carefully reconstructed from data sup- 
plied by existing records, so that we have this fa- 
mous old tavern exactly as it appeared when kept 
by the famous old innkeeper — "Black Sam" Fraun- 
ces. The structure was originally the private resi- 
dence of Etienne De Lancey in 1719 and stood on 
the edge of the water. It is one of the three places 
in JSTew York identified with the memory of Wash- 
ington that are still standing; the Van Cortlandt 
Mansion in Yan Cortlandt Park and the Roger 
Morris House (Jumel Mansion) being the other 
two. A tablet to the memory of Frederick Samuel 
Tallmadge, on the Broad Street side, whose munifi- 
cence enabled the society to purchase and restore 
the building is of interest. 

The building before the Sons of the Revolution 
acquired it had fallen to a very low estate, the 
ground floor being occupied by a second-rate saloon. 
From this unseemly fate it was happily rescued, 
and is now one of the most interesting buildings 
of the Revolutionary period in the city. In 1768 the 
ISTew York Chamber of Commerce was organized in 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 151 

tlie same long room wliicli was also tlie scene of 
Washington's farewell, and altogether the tavern 
looms large in the history of old New York. There 
is now a well-conducted restaurant on the main 
floor with many relics in the museum above. Alto- 
gether, a pleasant hour can be spent in the old 
rooms. Subway, surface and elevated cars land you 
within a very short distance of the building, which 
is also included in the downtown route of the vari- 
ous sight-seeing cars. 

Coming out of the tavern and wahiing along 
Broad Street to Wall Street you pass the noisy 
aggregation of callow youths known as "curb" 
brokers. By some unwritten law they occupy the 
middle of the street and make the neighborhood 
hideous with their yelling and shouting. As the 
original Stock Exchange commenced very much in 
the same way, custom seems to have sanctioned the 
right of the embryo brokers to the public thorough- 
fare and no one objects. They deal principally in 
small odd lots, and in securities not yet recognized 
by the regular exchange. 

You have no sooner passed this crowd than you 
are directly in front of the marble-columned build- 
ing of the Stock Exchange proper, and the bedlam 
which you have just heard becomes faint in compari- 
son with the roaring of the "bulls" and "bears" 
inside the building, to say nothing of the plaintive 
bleating of the shorn "lambs" outside. Admission 
to the Stock Exchange is by card, which may read- 
ily be obtained upon application to any banker or 
broker in the vicinity. 

On the left, as you turn the corner of Broad 
Street, stands Trinity Church, on Broadway, facing 



152 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

Wall Street, and but a few yards distant. As this 
is the oldest church in New York and the most 
famous, a few moments will be well spent in its 
hallowed precincts. 

The present building is the third to be erected. 
The first (1696) was destroyed in the great fire of 
1T76, the second (1789) was declared unsafe (1837) 
and torn down. The present edifice was opened for 
service in 1848. For more than two hundred years 
the spire of Trinity was the most noted landmark in 
the city of New York. For many years visitors 
were allowed to climb the many steps up its steeple, 
and their energy was well rewarded by the magnifi- 
cent view of the city and harbor spread out before 
their eyes. 

To-day it is hard to find the steeple, so closely 
is it guarded by the surrounding skyscrapers, and 
it barely reaches to half the height of the buildings 
directly around it. It is about one-third the height 
of the Woolworth Building, a few blocks north of 
it on Broadway. Trinity Church has played a great 
part in the social and religious life of our city, and 
enjoys a large place in the affections of the people. 
Many persons wonder why Washington selected St. 
Paul's Chapel instead of the much more noted par- 
ent church for his devotional attendance, forgetting 
that during Washington's residence in New York 
Trinity was still in ruins and was not rebuilt till 
after his departure. 

Entering the church yard directly from Broad- 
way we stand in front of the monument erected 
to that gallant sailor, Captain James Lawrence, of 
"Don't give up the ship" fame. On the south side 
directly opposite is the monument to the Martyrs 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 155 

of tlie Eevolution — those who died in prisons. Pac- 
ing Eector Street is the memorial to Eobert Fulton, 
who is buried beneath in the Livingston family vault, 
and near him is that of William Bradford, the first 
printer in New York. The pathetic story of Char- 
lotte Temple is recalled by the beautiful monument 
to her memory, as is also the tragic death of Alex- 
ander Hamilton by his imposing cryptograph. The 
grave of Y. M. L. Davis, Aaron Burr's second in 
the duel, is also here. Marinus Willett, General 
Phil Kearney, Samuel Johnson, president of King's 
College (now Columbia) ; Albert Gallatin, Augustus 
Van Home, Sidney Breese, Lady Cornbury, Sir 
Yfilliam Alexander, Earl of Stirling; General 
Clarkson, Eev. Dr. Barclay, the second of Trinity^s 
rectors, all suggest prominent families still living 
in the city and whose members m.aintain the social 
importance of their forebears. 

The beautiful bronze doors by St. Gaudens, Karl 
Bitter and J. Massey Ehind is the gift of W. W. 
Astor, while the beautiful reredos is also an Astor 
gift by J. J. and Wm. Astor. Facing Broadway 
is a memorial drinking fountain, the gift of Henry 
C. Swords in memory of his mother. A beautiful 
cross in the centre of the north side is a memorial 
of Mrs. Astor by her daughter. Altogether Trinity 
is not only old in historic association, but its mon- 
uments and mem^orials are of an unusually^ inter- 
esting character. Beautiful stained-glass windows 
ornament the interior, together with several memo- 
rial tablets, including one to a party of Scotchmen 
who were shipwrecked ofi the coast of Sandy Hook 
in 1783. 

The charm of old Trinity, rich in associations 



156 NIJW YORK OF TO-DAY 

of the past, is not hard to understand. The quiet- 
ness and repose of this secluded spot is in strik- 
ing contrast to the roar and bustle of Broadway 
just outside. Although far removed from the pres- 
ent homes of its parishioners and completely iso- 
lated from any social centre of the city, this fine 
old church continues to attract a distinguished audi- 
ence every Sunday and apparently suffers nothing 
from its out-of-the-way location. The church is 
open daily and is rarely without visitors from all 
parts of the world, and an hour spent in old Trin- 
ity is likely to prove one of the most delightful 
memories of the trip to New York. 

Audubon's Home in New York 
Riverside Drive takes its majestic course north 
from Seventy-second Street with scarcely a break 
until it comes to the classic buildings of the His- 
panic Society of America, at One Hundred and 
Fifty-sixth Street. There it swerves sharply to the 
east and in the little corner below the Viaduct this 
march of improvement has been stayed, providen- 
tially perhaps, for in the little bend thus formed 
by the curve is the farmer home of not only a 
citizen of 'New York, but a citizen of the world. 
For wherever wild birds sing and wherever chil- 
dren live, wherever men and women are, the name 
of John James Audubon is more familiar perhaps 
than that of any of the other great naturalists 
whose work and fame are our common heritage. 
For Audubon chose as his field of labor the most 
delightful, most fascinating and most romantic of 
all woodland fancies — the study of birds. And to 
a naturally beautiful subject he brought a genius 




tFW VORK. EDISON CO 

Maine Monument, Columbus Circle, entrance to Central Park. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 159 

and a persistence that have made him one of the 
world's marvels. 

Gifted by nature with a constitution that defied 
disease and fatigue, imbued with an enthusiasm 
which knew no bounds, Audubon braved every- 
thing, suffered everything in the pursuit of his ob- 
ject. Now living among the Indians, now alone 
in some primeval region, in tropic heat and arctic 
cold, no exposure, no physical suffering ever brought 
a moment's hesitation. Only once was this precious 
life in danger ere the stupendous task was com- 
pleted. 

In the year when Audubon lived in N'ew York, 
the squalid, unkempt and neglected corner where 
his house now stands formed one of the show places 
of the metropolis. In those days it was not in 
the city proper and a writer of that time spoke of 
his home as being on ''the banks of the Hudson 
River, in the village of Carmansville, a short dis- 
tance from New York." A visitor to Audubon 
in 1846 thus describes the house: "The house is 
simple and unpretending in its architecture, beau- 
tifully embowered amid elms and oaks. Several 
graceful fawns and a noble elk were stalking in the 
shade of the trees, apparently unconscious of the 
presence of dogs, and not caring for the numerous 
turkeys, geese and other domestic animals that 
gabled and screamed around them. Nor did my 
own approach startle the wild, beautiful creatures 
that seemed as docile as any of their tame com- 
panions'." A great change has since overtaken this 
once beautiful tree-embowered homestead. A more 
forlorn, desolate and dispiriting section is not to 
be found in the city nor within a day's walk of it 



160 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

than the old home in which the greatest naturalist 
of all time lived during the zenith of his career, 
and whose occupancy brought distinction and re- 
nown to our city. 

It is not fair, however, to say that the city has 
done nothing for the memory of Audubon. The 
National Government having caused one of the 
peaks of the Rockies to be named Mount Audubon, 
the Common Council of the city permitted a street 
to be named Audubon Avenue. Several real estate 
operators in that section have named their apart- 
ments after the great naturalist, and there is also 
a moving picture theatre of that name. A telephone 
central office is also called Audubon, so that it 
cannot be said that l^ew York is wholly indifferent 
to the claims of her most distinguished naturalist. 
The statue that was to be erected in Central Park 
never advanced any further than its original pro- 
jection in 1852, and the one in the Museum of 
Natural History is a private contribution. All this 
might be forgiven if only the old home could be 
saved. 

We are glad to say that there is now a move- 
ment on foot under the initiative of the New York 
Historical Society to erect a memorial bridge and 
put up a brass tablet at the point where Riverside 
Drive turns around at the old home. It has not 
been found practical to convert what remains of 
the land into a park, as has been suggested, but the 
Historical Society feels that it should at least be 
forever identified. A committee composed of Mr. 
Gerard Beekman, Mr. F. D. Weekes and Mr. Richard 
Henry Greene has been appointed to arrange the 
details. 



NEW YOBK OF TO-DAY 163 

Xew Yoek is- pee-Eetolutioxaey Days 

Before the Eevolution and for many years after- 
ward the centre of literary activity was largely in 
Xew England. This accounts in a measure for the 
fact that, not^thstanding Xew York's brilliant part 
in the events which led up to that important event, 
it is only of recent years that she is getting a larger 
share of credit than formerly. Zengers ^Tew York 
Journal was the only paper in the Colonies to openly 
criticise the royal authority, and during the suppres- 
sion of his paper none of the other provinces were 
brave enough to let it be published within their 
confines. And at last, when the attempt to coerce 
and muzzle his publication was ended, and the jury 
brought in a verdict of '^ot guilty'" to the charge 
of treason and sedition, it was a Xew York jury 
that had the moral courage to render such a deci- 
sion. And so to Xew York the Eepublic owes its 
freedom of the press. 

In a similar way the beginning of the Eevolu- 
tion was postponed from 1765 to 1776, solely be- 
cause the royal authorities in Xew York yielded 
to the threat of a mob, who demanded that the ob- 
noxious stamps be given up to them for confisca- 
tion — ^which was done forthwith and the threatened 
Eevolution avoided for the time. In a similar way 
the far-famed Boston Tea Party had its counter- 
part in Xew York a year or two before this noted 
event. Capt. Lovelace, who arrived with a cargo 
of tea, was politely escorted to Murray's Dock, at 
the foot of "Wall Street, amid the yelling and cheer- 
ing of practically the entire population, and ordered 
to leave the harbor at once with his objectionable 
cargo. An armed conflict between the i>opulace and 



164 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

the British soldiers occurred at John and William 
streets several months before the Boston massacre, 
and New York is safely entitled to claim the first 
blood shed in the Eevolution. 

The stoppage by Marinus Willett of the attempt 
to withdraw arms and ammunition from Fort George 
at a critical moment marked also an important 
event in affairs leading up to the Eevolution, as 
showing the temper and bravery of the people in 
the face of real danger. It certainly required some 
spirit to halt an armed garrison and order them 
back to the fort. And last, but not least, the mer- 
chants of old E'ew York were the only ones to faith- 
fully live up to the signed agreement regarding 
non-importations of goods from Britain. 

New York has always been so busy, so pre- 
occupied with its ever-pressing commercial growth, 
that it has paid little attention to affairs purely 
sentimental, as they consider this to be. It is con- 
tent to stand by the record. But if this record is 
seldom published they are bound to suffer by com- 
parison with other communities who get out new 
books about it every spring and every fall. Our 
amicable little friend at the head of Massachusetts 
Bay is entitled to the plaudits of the multitude for 
the splendid manner in which she has persistently 
and consistently advertised herself as the sole star 
in that famous American drama, the Revolution. 
But it is not fair to give the impression that New 
York had only one speaking line, like "the carriage 
awaits, my lord."' And Philadelphia should also 
not treat with such superb disdain the mere sug- 
gestion that New York is anything but a city of 
Philistines. 




CHAPTER X 



NEW YORK'S MEN OF LETTERS 

Washington Irving 

Elsewhere in these pages I have referred to the 
indifference of ISTew York to its position in the his- 
tory of our country, and with equal justice I may 
add its similar attitude toward literature. Yet 
Washington Irving, a 'New Yorker, was acclaimed 
the first American man of letters of his day, and 
the first to receive for American literature the rec- 
ognition and plaudits of the Old World. Vv'hen he 
went to England in the midst of the War of 1812, 
he was at once cordially welcomed by Sir Walter 
Scott and his friends, not merely as a fellow- 
craftsman of distinction, but as an American 
genius, above the petty decisions of Cabinets re- 
garding peace or war. 

We see him once more in the falling shadows of 
a closing day. It is in the garden of a friend's 
167 



168 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

house in sunny Spain — and beyond are the storied 
columns of the ancient Alhambra. Two little girls 
are on his knee, to whom he is telling strangely 
fascinating tales. Childish laughter breaks upon 
the quiet scene. In a retired little English vil- 
lage still lives one of these little girls. To-day, as 
ex-empress of a half-forgotten empire, its people 
once more struggling for existence against the old- 
time foe, does Eugenie Marie de Monti jo recall 
the days of merry, care-free childhood, and that cul- 
tured, gentle scholar from old ISTew York? It is 
the last leaf on the tree. 

Washington Irving's genius only gains by the 
lapse of time. His inimitable history of ISTew York 
has more readers to-day than ever before, and copies 
of the first edition of this delightful story are ea- 
gerly purchased at constantly advancing prices. 
Even his method of introducing "Diedrich Knick- 
erbocker" to the public is equal to any other work 
he ever wrote. Although essentially an advertise- 
ment, the conception and execution of the idea is 
delightfully quaint and so whimsical as to be well 
worth reproducing. It took the form of a number 
of supposed genuine communications to the Evening 
Post regarding the disappearance of an old gentle- 
man named Diedrich Knickerbocker. 

As will be seen, these communications were ex- 
cellently adapted to arouse interest and sympathy 
regarding the fate of old Diedrich, and readily ex- 
cited considerable curiosity regarding the book 
which he had left behind and which the irascible 
old innkeeper was determined to seize. The result 
amply justified Irving's expectations, as all New 
York was agog to see what "very curious kind of 




•AS tS.>SS3 3S! 
S tS i3-iSS» SBj 

» s at s J * s e s i, 
*a:sssass*»[ 

a a ; t s s .t B fs s a - ' 

X t* S J 3 dS B S ■ « I 

,!??:=: ■!» = *! a «ss: 




NE\Y YORK OF TO-DAY 171 

a book" old Knickerbocker had written. But I 
shall let Irving tell the story in his own way. 

The first notice appeared as an item of news and 
was headed: 

DISTRESSING 

Left his lodgings some time since, and has not 
since been heard of, a small elderly gentleman, 
dressed in an old black coat and cocked hat, by 
the name of Knicherhocher. As there are some 
reasons for believing he is not entirely in his 
right mind, and as great anxiety is entertained 
about him, any information concerning him left 
either at the Columbian Hotel, Mulberry Street, 
or at the office of this paper, will be thankfully 
received. 

A few days were allowed to elapse and then the 
following letter appeared: 

To the Editor of the ''Evening Post." 

Sir: Having read in your paper of the 26th 
October last a paragraph respecting an old gentle- 
man by the name of KnicTcerhoclcer, who was miss- 
ing from his lodgings, if it would be any relief 
to his friends, or furnish them with any clew to 
discover where he is, you may inform them that 
a person answering the description given was seen 
by the passengers of the Albany stage, early in the 
morning, about four or five weeks since, resting 
himself by the side of the road, a little above 
King's Bridge. He had in his hand a small bundle 
tied in a red bandanna handkerchief : he appeared 
to be travelling northward, and was very much 
fatigued and exhausted. 

A Traveller. 



172 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

A period of ten days then intervened before any 
more was printed, and tlien the following letter by 
the supposed landlord appeared: 

To the Editor of the ''Evening Post." 

Sir: You have been good enough to publish 
in your paper a paragraph about Mr. Diedrich 
KnicJcerhocJcer, who was missing so strangely some 
time since. !N'othing satisfactory has been heard 
of the old gentleman since; but a very curious 
hind of a written hooh has been found in his 
room, in his own handwriting. Now I wish you 
to notice him, if he is still alive, that if he does 
not return and pay off his bill for boarding and 
lodging I shall have to dispose of his book to 
satisfy me for the same. 

I am, sir, your humble servant, 
Seth Handaside, 
Landlord of the Independent 

Columbian Hotel, Mulberry St. 

Another two weeks passes and then the well- 
known publishers, Inskeep and Bradford, enter the 
scene with the announcement that they have been 
selected as the publishers of Diedrich's book, as 
will be seen from the following: 



LITERARY NOTICE 


Inskeep and Bradford have in press. 


and will shortly publish, 


A HISTORY OF NEW YORK 


In two volumes, duodecimo 


Price, three dollars 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 175 

Containing an account of its discovery and 
settlement, witli its internal policies, manners, 
customs, wars, etc., etc., under the Dutch gov- 
ernment, furnishing many curious and inter- 
esting particulars never before published, and 
which are gathered from various manuscript 
and other authenticated sources, the whole 
being interspersed with philosophical specula- 
tions and moral precepts. 

This work was found in the chamber of Mr. 
Diedrich Knickerbocker, the old gentleman 
whose sudden and niysterious disappearance 
has been noticed. It is published in order 
to discharge certain debts he has left behind. 

Finally appears this notice of the book itself: 



Is this day published 
By Inskeep and Bradford, ISTo. 128 Broadway 

A HISTORY OF NEW YORK 

In two volumes, duodecimo 
Price, three dollars 



Then follows a description of the book as given 
above and thus is finished a very clever piece of 
advertising which would do credit to the profession 
even to-day. 

Joseph Eodman Drake 

Two other contemporaries of Irving's have also 
left an impress on English literature — Joseph Rod- 



176 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

man Drake and Fitz-Greene Halleck. Tlieir first 
work, done in collaboration, appeared anonymously 
in the columns of the Post in a series of brilliantly 
satirical papers entitled "The Croakers," which, 
while they lasted, created the utmost excitement in 
our then small city, where everybody knew each 
other and where the clever shafts of wit rarely 
missed their mark. In our day and generation, it 
is quite difficult to understand the intense interest 
taken in these papers, but they quite rivalled the 
letters of Junius of a slightly earlier day. This style 
was a favorite form of polished writing in those 
days, and the fame of "The Croakers" letters quickly 
became widespread. A devoted friendship sprang 
up between the two men and the early death of 
Drake (at the age of twenty-five) was to Halleck 
a sorrow which he never forgot. His lament over 
the death of his young friend remains still one of 
the most touching tributes in English poetry. 

Drake^s most famous work is "The Culprit Fay," 
though his "American Flag" is also immensely pop- 
ular. But for beautiful imagery, for exquisite fancy, 
for charm and sweetness, few poems in any lan- 
guage excel "The Culprit Fay." Drake may well 
be acclaimed one of America's great poets. Lorenzo 
bewitches us no more with his "How sweet the moon- 
light sleeps upon this bank" than does the elfin Fay 
with his "glimmering spark caught from the trail 
of a shooting star." We reproduce the poem here 
in part and feel sure our readers will be glad to 
peruse a work of which they have often heard, but 
which they may have hitherto neglected. 

The poem opens with the gathering of the Fays : 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 179 

THE CULPRIT FAY 

'Tis the middle watch of a summer night — 
The earth is dark, but the heavens are bright; 
Naught is seen in the vault on high 
But the moon, and the stars, and the cloudless 

sky, 
And the flood which rolls its milky hue, 
A river of light on the welkin blue. 
The moon looks down on old Cronest, 
She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast, 
And seems his huge gray form to throw 
In a silver cone on the wave below; 
His sides are broken by spots of shade. 
By the walnut bough and the cedar made, 
And through their clustering branches dark 
Glimmers and dies the fire-fly's spark — 
Like starry twinkles that momently break 
Through the rifts of the gathering tempest's rack. 
'Tis the hour of fairly ban and spell; 
The wood-tick has kept the minutes well; 
He has counted them all with click and stroke 
Deep in the heart of the mountain-oak, 
And he has awakened the sentry elve 
Who sleeps with him in the haunted tree. 
To bid him ring the hour of twelve. 
And call the fays to their revelry; 
Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell — 
('Twas made of the white snail's pearly shell) ; 
"Midnight comes, and all is well! 
'Tis is the dawn of the fairy day." 

A sad thing, however, befalls the fairy band — 
one of them falls in love with an earthly maiden: 



180 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

A scene. of sorrow waits tliem now, 

For an Ouphe has broken his vestal vow; 

He has loved an earthly maid. 

A conclave is held and it is decreed that the dis- 
obedient Fay should suffer a doom which is told in 
the following lines: 

Thou shalt seek the beach of sand 

Where the; water bounds the elfin land; 

Thou shalt watch the oozy brine 

Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright sunshine. 

Then dart the glistening arch below. 

And catch a drop from his silver bow 

The water-sprites will wield their arms 

And dash around, and roar and rave, 

And vain are the woodland spirits' charms. 

They are the imps that rule the wave. 

Yet trust thee in thy single might: 

If thy heart be pure and thy spirit right, 

Thou shalt win the warlock fight. 

The rest of the poem is an exquisite description 
of his adventures in the heavens above, the earth 
beneath and the waters under the earth, and the 
poet depicts the wanderings of the little sinner in 
the most beautiful imagery and charming style. 

Through it all the elfin is faithful to his mortal 
love and is ultimately welcomed back: 

Ouphe and Goblin! Imp and Sprite! 
Elf of eve! and starry Fay! 
Ye that love the moon's soft light. 
Hither, hither wend your way; 
Twine ye in a jocund ring. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 181 

Sing and trip it merrily, 

Hand to hand, and wing to wing, 

Eound the wild witch-hazel tree. 

Hail the wanderer again 

With dance and song, and lute and lyre. 

Pure his wing and strong his chain, 

And doubly bright his fairy fire. 

Twine ye in an airy round, 

Brush the dew and print the lea; 

Skip and gambol, hop and bound, 

Eound the wild witch-hazel tree. 

Fritz-Greene Halleck 

Next to his poem lamenting the death of his young 
friend Drake, beginning with those well-remembered 
lines : 

Green be the turf above thee, 
Friend of my better days, 

]N"one knew thee but to love thee, 
Kor named thee but to praise. 

he is probably known best for his "Marco Bozzaris," 
written, as has already been told, on a visit to Wash- 
ington's headquarters. It has been a favorite theme 
of the graduating high school orator (with accom- 
panying gestures suggesting a marionette) for nearly 
a hundred years. 

New York also owes another and very substantial 
debt to Halleck, for it is generally conceded that 
when the idea of presenting the city with a hand- 
some library occurred to the first John Jacob Astor, 
Halleck, who enjoyed great intimacy with him, en- 
tered enthusiastically into the plan and along with 
Washington Irving did what he could to promote 



182 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

the scheme. For the extent of that debt we have 
only to look at the handsome building on the cor- 
ner of Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street. 

Edgar Allen Poe 

In the Bronx there is now a public park with a 
small cottage therein. That is the home of that 
strange and erratic genius, Edgar Allan Poe. Not 
far from this modest cottage rise the stately col- 
umns of the Hall of Fame of the New York Uni- 
versity, where Poe has obtained a seat among the 
mighty. Although not a born New Yorker, it was 
here that Poe's most important work was done and 
for your scrapbook we include one of his most de- 
lightful poems: 

ANNABEL LEE 

It was many and many a year ago, 

In a kingdom by the sea, 
That a maiden there lived whom you may know, 

By the name of Annabel Lee; 
And this maiden she lived with no other thought 

Than to love and be loved by me. 
I was a child and she was a child. 

In this kingdom by the sea: 
But we loved v/ith a love that was more than 
love — 

I and my Annabel Lee; 
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven 

Coveted her and me. 

And this was the reason that, long ago. 
In this kingdom by the sea, 



NE\Y YORK OF TO-DAY 185 

A wind blew out of a cloud, cliilling 

My beautiful Annabel Lee; 
So that her liigb-born kinsmen came 

And bore her away from me. 
To shut her up in a sepulchre 

In this kingdom by the sea. 

The angels, not half so happy in heaven, 

Went envying her and me — 
Yes! — that was the reason (as all men know. 

In this kingdom by the sea) 
That the wind came out of the cloud by night, 

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love 

Of those w^ho were older than we — 

Of many far wiser than we — 
And neither the angels in heaven above, 

I^or the demons down under the sea, 
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. 

For the moon never beams without bringing me 
dreams 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side 
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride. 

In her sepulchre there by the sea — 

In her tomb by the side of the sea. 

Julia Ward Howe 
Were this chapter to embrace even a small pro- 



186 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

portion of New York's great men of letters, it would 
necessitate the preparation of an extra volume. We 
shall end the present symposium with one other 
entrant — Julia Ward Howe. It is only six years 
since Julia Ward Howe died, but already the story 
of her girlhood in New York City seems as far 
off and as different from the life of to-day as if she 
had been born centuries ago instead of 1819. Her 
father, Samuel Ward, was prominent in the finan- 
cial life of the city. He was a member of Prime, 
Ward & King, an important banking company, and 
the founder and first president of the Bank of Com- 
merce. He was also one of the founders of the 
New York University, the Stuyvesant Institute and 
other important public institutions. He had a large 
house at the corner of Boadway and Bond Street, 
then far out of town, from which it was separated 
by woods and fields. 

When Miss Julia and her two sisters grew up, so 
lovely and charming were they that they were known 
as the "Three Graces of Bond Street." In the 
biography of Mrs. Julia Ward Howe by her daugh- 
ters the following quotation from a "private jour- 
nal" of a visitor to the family was given: 

"Walked down Broadway with all the fashion 
and met the pretty blue-stocking. Miss Julia 
Ward, and her admirer. Dr. Howe, just home from 
Europe. She had on a blue cloak and a white 
muslin dress. I looked to see if she had on blue 
stockings, but I think not. I suspect that her 
stockings were pink, and she wore low slippers, 
as grandma does. They say she dreams in Italian 
and quotes French verses. She sang very prettily 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 189 

at a party last evening and accompanied herself 
on the piano. I noticed how white her hands 
were." 

In the dark days of the Civil War a longing for 
some song, more spiritual, and on a higher plane, 
than any yet written seemed to be in the hearts of 
our people. And Julia Ward Howe gave it expres- 
sion in that greatest of all hymns: 

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of 

the Lord, 
He is tramping out the vintage where the grapes 

of wrath are stored, 
He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible 

swift ■ sword, 
His truth is marching on! 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 193 

Aside from the regular theatre, with which every 
one is familiar, ITew York rejoices in one or two 
enterprises materially different from the nsnal run. 
The Hippodrome, for instance, is unlike any other 
playhouse in America, and everything in it is 
planned on a scale so enormous as to belittle all 
others by comparison. It is mainly given up to a 
performance which pleases the eye more than any- 
thing else. Its scientifically patented water tank, 
enabling the players to submerge and disappear com- 
pletely, always produces its thrill when seen for the 
first time. Battling hosts are forced into the "sea" 
and "drowned" before your very eyes. The stage is 
larger itself than the whole of an ordinary theatre, 
and the auditorium in proportion, consequently 
speaking parts are practically out of the question 
except for the actor with a voice like a megaphone. 
The plays are mostly spectacular with plenty of 
chorus singing and several old-time circus acts in 
which an elephant usually appears. Fred Thompson, 
who conceived the Hippodrome, thought the elephant 
an emblem of good luck and adopted this for the 
chief scheme of decoration. 

The next unique playhouse is undoubtedly the 
Strand, where moving pictures are given with a 
wonderful orchestra of about fifty players, and in 
addition a good soloist or quartette. The stage is 
gorgeously grand, producing a stunning effect. It 
has special lighting arrangements, and the whole 
scheme is decidedly pleasing • and refined. It has 
certainly done much to elevate the standard of the 
movies, and is a great success. Other houses have 
since followed suit, and those visitors who have not 
been able to patronize anything but the local livery 



194 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

turned into an open-air theatre will be very mucli 
impressed by tbe elaborateness of the movie in New 
York. 

There are also a number of "intimate" theatres, 
as they are called — small places seating from one 
hundred and fifty to three hundred persons. Here 
you avoid the vulgar crowd and usually see one of 
those wholly uninteresting but excessively intellec- 
tual productions that require a small auditorium in 
order that the audience may be seen with the naked 
eye. This season, however, the show business has 
been so profitable that several genuinely good plays 
have found their way into these dramatic cold stor- 
age vaults, and have played to capacity. This de- 
velopment has also shown that the small theatre 
has its attractions, and they have grown in popu- 
larity quite amazingly. They also rejoice in a new 
school of nomenclature, like "The Bandbox," "The 
Little Theatre," "The Punch and Judy," etc., which 
is a distinct improvement over naming it after the 
plumber who built the structure or the man who 
owned the lot. 

If you do not enjoy the play you are very apt 
to enjoy the clothes. For the actress of New York 
is a genuine artiste, in a sartorial sense at least, 
and is a good-looking object on the stage, even if 
she has no other excuse for being there. In the 
morning scene (about noon) she arises arrayed in 
an intime robe of orchid chiifon with silver lace 
banding, with dull blue chiffon overdress. When she 
goes for her morning constitutional she is clad in 
a tailored covert suit, white broadcloth collar, bright 
with Bulgarian embroidery to relieve the severity. 




Broad Street — looking from present Curb Market to Wall Street. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 197 

Her straw hat threatens to be very aggressive, but 
a "stick up'^ of roses changes the entire aspect to 
one of bewitching loveliness. At the country club 
her sport clothes are the envy of all the seniors in 
the fashionable seminaries. She selects an old gold 
jersey cloth, with stick-out pockets on the coat, and 
smaller editions on the skirt, embroidered like the 
collar in vari-coloured machine stitching. And she 
tops it with a two-color mushroom brim sailor. So 
bedizened she sallies forth to challenge the admira- 
tion, at least, of her high-school matinee friends, if 
not the highbrow dramatist. The theatre has many 
added functions to perform since competition with 
the movies became so keen, and not the least of these 
requirements is that of arbiter of fashion. 

Tor a slight advance (fifty cents) tickets for all 
the popular successes are usually obtainable at any 
of the hotel offices. It is hardly worth while trying 
to save this half dollar if you want to see the show 
the night you apply. While this seems something 
of an imposition, it is really a convenience to per- 
sons whose time does not permit of postponement. 
In London there is a similar charge for "booking," 
as they call it over there. In both cases the cus- 
tomer is saved the trouble of going to the theatre 
personally. So don't let this charge spoil your 
temper and your enjoyment of the evening. There 
are many other petty exactions in the city infinitely 
more exasperating than this. 

The daily papers contain announcements of all 
the current plays, together with location of the 
theatre. If time permits it is well to arrange your 
theatre engagements a week or two in advance 



198 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

"^lien you first arrive. There is always more or 
less trouble to get a good seat at a popular ^success 
even with this precaution. 

The theatre district is quite easily reached from 
almost any part of the city. Taxis being smaller, 
are much better for this purpose than a huge private 
car and easily obtainable. The entire list of attrac- 
tions playing in the city is usually displayed in a 
bulletin board on the newspaper stand of the hotel. 

The summer season is not the best time to judge 
New York theatrically. Most of the best houses 
are closed, but the girl and music show is generally 
in evidence all through the year. The roof garden 
is recommended for a sultry night, but it is a sad 
strain on credulity to describe any of these perform- 
ances as entertaining. There is a tendency to im- 
prove them each year, however, and it may be that 
in time they will not be as they chiefly are to-day, 
a very poor excuse for taking two dollars from any 
one's pocket. Along with the hat check extortion, 
the robbing taxicab driver and other petty graft for 
which the town is celebrated, the average roof garden 
show has them all beaten to a standstill. 

Cabarets and Eestaurants 

Within the last few years a craze for dancing 
seized this country, and what promised at first to 
be a passing fad has now developed apparently into 
a permanent institution in metropolitan life. New 
York proved a congenial soil for the propagation of 
this innovation. It already had a wonderful aggre- 
gation of hotels and restaurants whose patrons 
craved additional excitement, and the dansant sup- 
plied this demand in a most satisfactory way. In 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 201 

fact, so great has the popularity of this entertain- 
ment become that vast sums have gone into the 
furnishing and beautifying of rooms specially de- 
signed for dancers alone, and few, if any, of the 
smart hotels or restaurants are now without this 
quite necessary adjunct to the evening repast. 

The old-fashioned dinner with its social and inti- 
mate conversation is a thing of the past. Nowa- 
days when you have finished the oysters your partner 
grabs you and tangos around till he sees that soup 
is served. In the meantime, all the wicky-wicky 
boys and girls in grass skirts cavort around the open 
space you have just abandoned to the tune of count- 
less ukuleles, tom-toms and clanking castanets. In 
a few moments the performers disappear, your soup 
has been served, and there is time for another whirl 
before the fish comes, and you whirl. All of which 
is vastly different from the good old days — so called. 
The lights, the music, the brilliancy all go to make 
up a rather enjoyable scene. It is certainly different 
from what one sees at home and the novelty charms. 
The popularity of dining at restaurants cannot be 
denied. It may be destructive of home life and all 
that, but the fact still remains that more and more 
people go to restaurants than ever, and the number 
of scandals does not rise much above the average. 
It suits the New York temperament, and the visitor 
seems to approve of it also. Quite a competition 
has grown up among the various cabarets, and very 
elaborate programmes are now nightly given in 
most of the more pretentious places. 

All kinds of attractive names are selected for the 
various rooms in which these performances are given, 
and many of them are most luxuriantly and lavishly 



202 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

designed. It would be hard to find a more artistic 
creation than the Crystal Cascade at the Biltmore, 
the Cocoanut Grove at the Century Theatre, or the 
Orange Glades at Healey's, to say nothing of a dozen 
others. As we said before, dining at restaurants is 
a custom much more largely the vogue in l^ew York 
than in other cities, and naturally many induce- 
ments are held out to attract business, hence the 
ornate furnishings, delightful music and other 
pleasing novelties constantly offered. The visitor 
to 'New York will no doubt enjoy the novelty of a 
dinner at a typical Broadway restaurant. It should 
not be missed, but at the same time it should be 
handled with care. You are generally expected to 
spend between $15 and $25 per table, and, in fact, 
one place at least fixes the minimum at $15 even if 
you only order one beer. 

The crowds one sees at the cabaret are quite dif- 
ferent from those encountered in such fashionable 
resorts as Delmonico's, Sherry's, the Waldorf, Bilt- 
more, Yanderbilt, Bitz-Carlton, Plaza or others that 
are patronized by the more fashionable New York 
set. Still a glimpse at Bohemia is a novelty and 
one comes to New York for fun and not to gather 
material for a book on ascetic philosophy. 

There is also a very decided difference in the ap- 
pearance of the crowds on Sunday nights compared 
with week days. So many people live out of town 
that a week-end in the city is more or less of a 
necessity. And again, the convenience of dining 
out in preference to opening one's home is very al- 
luring. The custom of having guests on Sunday 
evenings has also greatly increased, so it is not an 
unusual thing to read in Monday's papers of half 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 205 

a dozen dinners by well-known people at various 
well-known hostelries. 

But the gala nights at both hotels and restaurants 
are election and ^NTew Year's Eve. Of course, during 
the Horse Show week and the great college football 
matches there are unusual crowds on both occasions. 
But nothing like the gaiety and the hilarity of 
either of the other two. Many delightful surprises 
are first brought to light on New Year's Eve, and 
one introduced some years ago seems now to be a 
permanent installation — the moment of darkness 
just as the old year dies. In a brilliantly lighted 
room with the bands playing and all the pleasure of 
the evening at its height, the sudden blackness and 
the hush that follows it creates a delicious little 
thrill that is remembered pleasantly for a long time 
afterwards. 

'Eo matter how much night life may be cried 
down, it is one of the great attractions of N"ew 
York, and so long as people have money to spend 
and a congenial atmosphere in which to spend it 
the custom will doubtless continue to grow. It is 
not, however, a habit conducive to thrift, nor does 
it lend itself readily to John D.'s theory of saving 
two-thirds of every penny you make. 




CHAPTEE XII 



IN NEW YORK 



Three and one-half million people travel every day 
in the subways and elevated railways, and over one 
and one-haK million in the surface cars. 

A passenger train arrives every 52 seconds. 

There is a wedding every 13 minutes. 

Four new business firms start up every 42 minutes. 

A new building is erected every 51 minutes. 

350 new citizens come to make their homes every 
day. 

4 transient visitors arrive every second. 

A child is born every 6 minutes. 

30 deeds and 27 mortgages are filed for record 
every business hour of the day. 

Every 48 minutes a ship leaves the harbor. 

Every night $1,250,000 is spent in the hotels and 
restaurants for dining and wining. 

An average of 21,000 persons pass daily through 
the corridors of the largest hotel. 
206 ' 



^m.1 




NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 209 

7,500 people are at work daily for the city in one 
building — the Muncipal Building. 

300,000 pass the busiest points along Broadway 
each day. 

More than 1,000,000 immigrants land every year. 

3,750,000 people live in tenements. 

105 babies out of every thousand die. 

100 gallons of water is supplied each individual 
daily. 

Street lighting costs $5,000,000 yearly. 

The public parks cover 7,223 acres. 
Land reclaimed by filling with street sweepings 
covers 64 acres. 

It takes 1,800 drivers to collect city refuse. 

The public schools cost over $40,000,000 annually. 

The foreign commerce is nearly one-half of the 
entire country. 

The funded debt is greater than that of the United 
States by $275,000,000. 

Two million and a quarter messages are sent and 
received by telephone daily. 

100 new telephones are added each day. 

Subways and elevated traffic increases 100,000,000 
yearly. 

More people living in its confines than in fourteen 
of our States and Territories. 

The record for being the greatest purchasing mu- 
nicipality in the world, not excepting London. 

More than one-half the population of the State 
of l^ew York. 

The majority of the banking power of the United 
States, which has two-thirds of the world's banking 
power. 



210 l^EW YORK OF TO-DAY 

An annual population increase of more than 100,- 
000, besides its own product of births. 

1,562 miles of surface, subway and elevated rail- 
ways, operating 8,514 passenger coaches, carrying 
daily 4,849,012 passengers on cash fares, and 419,799 
on transfers. 

A density of population (in Manhattan) of 96,000 
per square mile, six times that of any other city in 
the United States. Chicago, the next largest city, 
has 10,789 per square mile. 

Within a radius of 15 miles from City Hall a 
population of 7,500,000 people, one-fourteenth of the 
population of the United States. 

A population greater than the total population of 
the United States when Washington was inaugu- 
rated. 

4,000 people are arrested every day. 

11,000,000 matches are given away daily in the 
tobacco shops and hotel cigar stands. 

The telephone centrals have 586,000 calls each 
hour. 

There are 1,525 churches of all denominations. 

$2,500,000 is spent annually in maintenance of 
public charities. 

There are two fires every hour — ^yet the average 
annual fire loss is less than $5,000,000. 

The Fire Department answers 233 false alarms 
every day. 

20,000 people spend all their working hours under- 
ground. 

There are 50,000 night workers. 

2,000 pupils, representing 27 different nationali- 
ties, are registered at one school in the East Side. 

New York City, in the course of the year, carries 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 211 

the names of 97,015 persons upon its payrolls. Of 
these about 15,000 are temporary employees, leaving 
82,015 regulars. 

Probably no less than two other persons are de- 
pendent upon the earnings of each city employee, 
making a total of nearly 300,000 persons whose sup- 
port comes out of the city treasury. 

Assessed valuation representing one-fifteenth the 
total estimated wealth of the United States. 

Sufficient space to accommodate 25,000,000 people 
if the population were evenly distributed. 

A central hotel district, with a radius of less 
than half a mile, which contains 75 hotels, with a 
capacity for more than 50,000 guests. 

More than $205,000,000 invested in hotels. Their 
yearly expenditure is $29,000,000 and they employ 
31,000 persons of all nationalities. 

170 buildings that are 10 stories and over in 
height. 

Five office buildings, all within five blocks, worth 
$45,500,000, within which 28,500 people are at work 
daily. 

Public libraries that are made use of by 5,000,000 
more people annually than those of any other city 
in the world. 

A new water supply system, now building, which 
cost $167,000,000. It will eventually supply 1,000,- 
000,000 gallons of water daily. 

Famous Central Park, which cost originally $5,- 
000,000, and whose construction and maintenance 
to date has aggregated $25,000,000. The land is now 
worth $200,000,000. 

The Board of Education has the longest payroll, 
with 25,800 names on its list. The Police Depart- 



212 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

ment has 10,753 employees, the Street Cleaning De- 
partment 7,002, the Fire Department 5,145, the 
Department of Water Supply, Gas and Electricity 
3,330, the Department of Health 2,961, the Depart- 
ment of Public Charities 2,898, and the Department 
of Docks and Ferries 2,601. 

'New York City Has — 

More telephones than London, Paris, Berlin, Pet- 
rograd and Eome combined. 

Over 2,000 theatres and photoplay houses. 

64 daily papers. 

3,000 street cleaners, popularly known as "White 
Wings." 

55 milk stations with doctors and nurses. 

80,000 street lamps. 

26,000 factories, producing one-tenth of the manu- 
factures of the country. 

578 miles of water front. 

8 fire boats for protecting the shipping. 

More Irish than Dublin. 

More Italians than Rome. 

A German population twice the total of Bremen. 
More than Leipzig and Frankfort-on-Main com- 
bined. 

198 public parks varying in size from 4 square 
yards to 1,756 acres. 

More active club women than London and Paris 
combined. 

One block in which more than 5,000 people live, 
on less than 4 acres of ground. 

More Austrians and Hungarians than in Trieste 
and Fiume combined. 







4: u 

c J= 
& o 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 215 

A Jewish population one-seventh of its total, and 
their number equals the population of Maine. 

An annual budget greater than that of any other 
five American cities combined — in all about one- 
fourth as much as Uncle Sam spends to govern the 
nation. 

Spent $250,000,000 in the last 10 years in building 
underground and under water railroads. 

Two terminals — the Grand Central and Pennsyl- 
vania Eailroad's new stations and tunnel under the 
Hudson — which cost over $200,000,000 — four times 
as much as would be required to duplicate all the 
railroads of the entire European kingdom of Den- 
mark. 

A value of real estate reckoned at $3,391,771,862. 

Average daily transactions at the !N"ew York 
Clearing House totaling $300,000,000. 

A total value of imports at the port of IsTew York 
of $940,000,000 annually. Exports, $1,200,000,000. 

A population twice that of the six largest States 
in the Union (after Texas), whose combined area is 
754,665 square miles — 3,200 times that of IN'ew York 
City. 

A total population which, if divided into smaller 
communities, would make 10 cities the size of Pitts- 
burgh. 

1,500,000 more people than in the entire State of 
Missouri. 

A population greater than any Western State, any 
Middle State (except Hlinois), or any Southern 
State. 

A population exceeded by only three States in the 
Union — !N"ew York, Pennsylvania and Illinois. 



216 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

A population which equals the combined popula- 
tion of Florida, Georgia and Alabama. 

10,753 men in its Police Department. 

5,145 men in its Fire Department. 

Savings bank deposits aggregating $1,231,202,000 
— about $225 for each man, woman and child in the 
city. 

Public schools attended by 900,000 pupils, in which 
21,000 teachers are employed. 

It spends $100,000 daily for ice cream. 

Counting two glasses to the pint, New York con- 
sumes daily, all the year round, an average of 14,- 
000,000 glasses of beer, at a cost of $700,000. Includ- 
ing the imported brands, 10,000,000 barrels of beer 
are sold in the Metropolis annually, each barrel con- 
taining 31 H gallons. 

The city's soda water checks amount to $600,000 
for each 24 hours. This means 12,000,000 glasses. 



The Merchant's Association 

A very wide-awake organization in our city is the 
Merchant's Association, of which Mr. William Fel- 
lowes Morgan is president. It is quite beyond the 
limits of our space to enumerate all the important 
work this association has accomplished for the busi- 
ness interests of 'New York within recent years. It 
seems to be run with a single idea of the welfare 
of New York and is entirely free from any political 
influence whatever. It opposes either party and 
sometimes both, should necessity arise, and gener- 
ally gets what it is after. It is a power for good in 
the business world. 




CHAPTEE XIII 

WHAT DO YOU LIKE ABOUT 
NEW YORK? 



The following remarks were gathered by a bril- 
liant ^N'ew Yorker, Charles W. Wood, and they are 
well worth recording. Now that you have visited 
the city, won't you also write the editor of New Torh 
of To-day just what you found most to like about 
l^ew York? "We expect to print all answers in next 
year's edition, for all books about JSTew York have 
to be revised every year in order to keep up with the 
changes. 

"I like New York," said a hardened Broadwayite, 
"because it lets me alone. There's just as much 
fun in other places, but it all has to be explained 
and accounted for forever after. Not that I'd want 
to do anything I'd be ashamed of; but it gets on 
a man's nerves to feel that everybody in town is 
watching him. I'd just as soon everybody would 
219 



220 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

know everything there is to know about me, but I 
hate to feel that it matters." 

"I like the city," said a minister who formerly 
preached up-State, "because people here are not in- 
terested in one's private affairs. I insist that my life 
shall be an open book. I smoke, for instance I used 

to smoke in , and of course I did it openly as I 

do here. The people were broad and tolerant. They 
didn't object. But I felt that whatever I said or 
wrote was pigeon-holed in all their minds as the 
ideas of the minister who smohes. I like New York 
because it doesn't make those distinctions." 

"I like 'New York," said a student at Columbia, 
"because it is unconventional. There is no standard 
of conduct here. Each person is allowed to go his 
own way as long as he doesn't break any of the ordi- 
nances ; and there are enough people going each day 
to make your own way, whatever it happens 
to be, perfectly respectable. You can't follow 
your own way in a small town. You can't be 
spontaneous." 

"I like New York," said a vaudeville monologist, 
"because it is conventional. In small towns it is 
impossible to be satisfied with the gait of any par- 
ticular set, and people get into the habit of going it 
alone. They become individualists, each with his 
own hobby and his own cherished peculiarities. The 
result is that it takes a superman to fuse them, or 
get a laugh out of more than half a dozen in the 
house at once. Here in New York all you have to 
do is to spring some standard joke fairly well. If 
it is a first-class joke, if it has stood the test of years 
and attained a standing in any particular set, all 
the partisans of that set in the house can be de- 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 223 

pended on to applaud it. There are always enough 
people in each set on Broadway to make any one of 
the old gags go over; but in Watertown or Elmira 
you've got to be scratching for new ones every day. 
I wouldn't dare try a new one on New York." 

"I like New York," said a Harlem mother, "be- 
cause it is so safe for the children. I took them to 
Lake Champlain last summer and I was scared every 
minute. John was treed by a cow; Sarah almost 
stepped on a snake; the boys went out on the lake 
and the plug came out of the boat ; Willie was nearly 
killed with poison ivy, and there were foxes and 
hen-hawks and other terrible things swooping down 
on the farm every day or two. The children are 
playing in Central Park now and my mind is easy." 

"I like New York," said a housewife, or an apart- 
ment wife, in the Bronx, "because I can be outdoors 
so much. When I lived in St. Lawrence County it 
seemed as though I could never get my work done. 
When I wanted anything from the store I had to 
wait until the children came home from school to 
send them. It's nice to have a whole house with six- 
teen rooms ; but when you have to heat it with coal 
and build a fire every time you want some warm 
water, and kill a chicken yourself every time you 
want one for dinner, and pick its feathers and clean 
it and sweep up the mess besides, and wash about 
forty pans — well, give me four rooms and an oppor- 
tunity to get out of them by 10 o'^clock. Then, up 
there, you couldn't go out at all when it rained, 
because you'd stick in the mud, and you couldn't go 
out in the winter because the snow was too deep." 

"Whj^ do you live in New York ?"• I asked a ma- 
chinist who had worked at his trade in nearly every 



224 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

part of the United States. 'You're a natural rover. 
You aren't contented here. You're always kicking 
about conditions and ridiculing the people who stand 
for them. You haven't any wife or family. Why 
don't you get out?" 

"I'm going to hike," he said, "just as soon as I 
get acquainted; but there's no sense in leaving a 
town until you do. It took me six weeks to squeeze 
Los Angeles dry; but you don't have to spend more 
than four hours on a town like Fall River, Mass. 
Reckoning on the same schedule, bo, I'm due out 
of this burg about June 1, 1974. It's no good, of 
course; but you gotta hand it to the town for being 
some hard to unravel." 

"What do I like about New York ?" mused a tired 
business man, who was refreshing himself as rapidly 
as possible in a Park Row cafe. ^^What do I like 
about New York better than any other place ? Let's 
see — I'll take the same — it isn't wise to mix 'em up, 
but so long's I stick to the one thing, I c'n keep it 
up a week. D'yever hear the one they're telling about 

what's that, what do I like about New York 

better than other places? Well, let's see. What 
other places are there?" 

"I like New York," said a connoisseur who has 
lived everywhere, "because it is the only place there 
is. I like music : New York is the only place I can 
hear it when I want to. I like art: New York is 
the only place I can be sure to see the greatest pic- 
tures; not only of the old masters, but the new ones, 
just as fast as they come along. I like interesting 
people : New York is the place where those who are 
doing things in the literary and scientific world 
make their home. I like variety, infinite variety: 




PHOTO NEW YORK F.PI 



Washington Arch, Washington Square. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 227 

New York is the only place I can find that. I like 
the whole universe, and New York is where it lives." 

"I like New York because of its interest in little 
things," was the unexpected summary of a very 
sober citizen. "Yup, it's the little things that count 
here. If the whole block was burning up you'd al- 
ways find a crowd watching an automatic do-funny 
in some window across the street. New Yorkers 
can't hear the elevated, and stop right under it to 
buy toy dogs that squeak when you pull their tails. 
And when they get the papers they pass up all the 
news that tells how the nations of earth are being 
annihilated — to see how the Giants are coming out." 

"I like New York," said a newspaper reporter, 
"because it's so slow. You fellows here don't know 
what fast work it. Why, up in Syracuse, I used 
to cover eleven courts, two or three strikes, a couple 
of theatres and a fire or two all in the same day. It 
was hot-foot from 7.30 to 5 o'clock, with sinkers and 
coffee on the run for lunch. If you were out ten 
minutes without telephoning they notified the po- 
lice; and if you were gone haK an hour they took 
up a collection for flowers. Do reporters work in 
New York ? Why, some of them are actually fat." 

"I like New York," said a college professor, "be- 
cause its people are all so good-natured. When they 
are assaulted and battered by subway guards, their 
hats smashed, their clothes torn and their wind 
shut off, they almost always grin. When a street 
blows up, they say : 'Gee, what'll happen next ?' And 
if it falls into the subway they all seem glad that 
it lasted as long as it did. I watched a crowd going 
down Seventh Avenue the other day. That the ave- 
nue was impassable occurred to no one. One pe- 



228 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

destrian fell into an open man-hole, two more 
tripped on loose planks and plunged headlong into 
dust and slivers, three or four stumbled and went 
lame, but nobody swore. It might work for progress 
if our people had a little more temper; but their 
good humor makes them fine to live with." 

"I like New York," said a novelist, "because it is 
the only place on earth where I can't get lonesome. 
I have often heard that the average person doesn't 
find any social life in New York, but if that is so, 
it is because the average person doesn't feel the need 
of it. The mere presence of people everywhere is 
apt to dull one's craving for personal acquaintance. 
I am well aware that this situation is full of danger, 
but it has its compensations. It accounts for New 
Yorkers' habit of going crazy over their favorite 
actresses and moving picture stars. They don't have 
to know these people personally to love them; and 
they get to liking each other in some such far-off, 
representative way. They don't get acquainted, but 
they have their psychic attachments; and everybody 
knows, as soon as he gets into a restaurant, even 
in the thirty-cent table d'hotes, whether it is patron- 
ized by his type of soul or not. I like New York 
because of its impersonal social life." 

"I don't like New York," said a woman who used 
to be a social worker up-State. "I love it. I never 
could fall in love with any one I could like. It was 
always with some one who had a dreadful fascina- 
tion for me. Men don't like whiskey, but it fasci- 
nates them. 

"New York isn^t comfortable. It isn't sane. It 
isn't fit to live in. Living here is just a habit, a 
bad habit, but one you don't want to break. Why? 



XV* 



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ELLEWVILLC 




oCSl^ 



OYSTEBBAY 



LCTN G ISLAND 



-»OAiil> Of WATEA StUTLV 



Catskm Aquedact — the city's new water supply system. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 231 

Just because it is big, that's all; because it's big 
and terrible, too big and terrible for any one to do 
anything with; something that holds you in its 
clutches and makes you feel your own helplessness. 

"ISTew York is something you can't like and can't 
escape from. 

"I hate it. But I love it." 




CHAPTER XIY 



THE HISPANIC SOCIETY OF AMERICA 



On an elevation overlooking the Hudson, just 
where Riverside Drive makes a graceful curve as 
if to spare "Minniesland," the old home of Audu- 
bon, the great naturalist (which we have also 
described), stands the classic home of the 
Hispanic Society of America, which is devoted 
to the advancement of Spanish literature, art 
and history. The entrance proper is on Broad- 
way between One Hundred and Fifty-fifth and One 
-Hundred and Eifty-sixth Streets and the nearest 
station is at One Hundred and Eifty-seventh Street. 
The Hispanic Society is thus conveniently reached, 
and the stranger who decides to spend an hour or 
two within its walls will have visited one of the 
most remarkable institutions not only in 'New York, 
but in the world as well. In fact, the Hispanic 
Society probably is better known in foreign coun- 
tries than it is at home, though in recent years its 
232 




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NEW YORK OF TO-DAY ,235 

local fame lias greatly increased, partly by reason of 
the splendid exhibitions of Spanish art which it 
has given from time to time. Its late exhibition of 
Spanish tapestries is a case in point. Lovers of 
art were thus enabled to use the best examples of 
the most famous Spanish creations in this ancient 
art, and our country thus received the benefit. The 
lately increased interest in Spanish America has 
also given the society an added importance that 
is rapidly growing as its usefulness becomes more 
widely known. 

The collections of the society, though small, are 
of exquisite quality. ISTo attempt has been made 
to include the varying grades of certain illustrative 
originals, the idea being to limit the exhibits to the 
very best specimen obtainable in each class, and 
also one other that might be described as generally 
typical. In this manner the society has gathered 
examples of wood carving, silver work, ivory plaques 
and combs of Phcenician origin, Hispano-Moresque 
plaques, neolithic and Roman pottery, Buen-Eetiro 
ware, azulejos or glazed tiles, Roman mosaics and 
ecclesiastical embroideries, etc. Most of them are 
of the greatest rarity and many date from the fif- 
teenth and sixteenth centuries, or are even earlier. 

As the society delights to encourage special re- 
search in literature and strives to promote new and 
original investigation so that the result may be 
literature by itself, it offers special facilities to 
those pursuing such studies, and its library is, with- 
out exception the most important devoted to this 
particular school in America. Of its original manu- 
scripts, first editions, etc., ]!Tew York is justly proud. 
It includes a large collection of the work of Lam- 



236 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

bert Palmart, of Valencia, the first printer of Spain, 
with some specimens of contemporary printers of 
Germany and Italy for purposes of comparison; 
first editions of important Spanish authors and a 
unique special collection, including nearly every 
known edition of "Don Quixote" — itself an item of 
absorbing interest and value; autograph letters of 
Charles the Fifth and the Duke of Wellington ; man- 
uscripts of George Borrow and Robert Southey; 
some ancient maps and rare old prints and beauti- 
fully illumined mediaeval liturgical books. The so- 
ciety gives its cordial co-operation to sincere work- 
ers and upon application to the librarian the 
treasures of the library are freely placed at the 
disposal of readers. It is doubtful if such a similar 
collection of Spanish memorabilia is extant in any 
other country of the world. 

The existence of the society has been known to 
the people of I^ew York in a perfunctory way since 
its opening in 1904. Its building was admired, but 
considered too far out of the run of things to war- 
rant a special visit. One morning, however, th 
city buzzed with excitement concerning the adven' 
of a hitherto unheard-of artist — SoroUa — whose 
works were being exhibited at the Hispanic. The 
land of Velasquez, of Fortuny, of Murillo, of Goya 
had once more seized the sceptre of vanished power 
and like a meteor the splendor of SoroUa^s work 
flashed across the New World. 

New York hastened to pay homage to the genius 
who had in a moment revived the ancient glories 
of Leon and Castile. Long lines formed their 
tortuous lengths in and around the building, and 
more people viewed Sorolla's pictures in a shorter 




Inwood Tulip Tree. Largest tree on Manhattan Island. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 239 

time than was ever before recorded. The impor- 
tance of this exhibition did much to focus public 
attention upon the art treasures possessed by the 
society, and for the time being overshadowed its 
other attractions. Its pictures are undoubtedly en- 
titled to the high praise bestowed upon them, as 
they are of exceptional importance. There are three 
splendid examples of Velasquez's work. There are 
paintings by El Greco, Goya, Ribera, Zurzaran, For- 
tuny, Madrazo, Sorolla, Zuloaga and many other dis- 
tinguished Spanish artists. The Duke of Alba's is 
only one among other famous portraits in the so- 
ciety's collection, of which King Alphonso by Sorolla 
is another. The Queen of Spain is represented. The 
collection is fully entitled to be called representa- 
tive in the best sense of the word. 

A bronze bust of Collis P. Huntington, father of 
the founder and to whom the building is a memo- 
rial, is of special interest. It is on the right as 
you enter. The building is open from 10 to 5 every 
day of the week, but the library is closed on Sundays. 

The Clubs of ^ew York 

Club life in the Metropolis has undoubtedly 
reached a point of luxury and convenience which 
is probably far in advance of any other city — at 
least in point of numbers. In addition to clubs 
that are purely social and political, there is no end 
of those devoted to particular sports, such as yacht- 
ing, riding, driving, golfing, tennis and we may add 
flying. All the large business interests also have 
clubs, such as transportation, lawyers', engineering, 
etc., while the more important colleges are repre- 



240 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

sented by organizations that usually have a mem- 
bership almost equalling the regular alumni of the 
alma mater. 

The leading social club is undoubtedly the Union 
Club. Its home is on Fifth Avenue opposite St. 
Patrick's Cathedral, and its membership is limited 
to 1,600. It is said to be customary to post the 
name of any new male arrival in New York's old 
families for admission in the hope that by the time 
he reaches his majority there will be a chance for 
election. Other clubs of a similar exclusive nature 
are the Calumet, the Racquet and Tennis, the Metro- 
politan and the Knickerbocker. Of clubs that were 
primarily political, but are now both social and 
political, the Union League and the Manhattan are 
both types. The former is Republican and the lat- 
ter Democratic. 

Of the college clubs the University is probably the 
best known. Its beautiful building, on the corner 
of Fifth Avenue and Fifty-fourth Street, has 3,300 
members and it is among the largest clubs in the 
country. The other college clubs, the Yale, Har- 
vard, Princeton, Columbia, are also important or- 
ganizations. The Yale has lately built one of the 
largest club houses in town at Forty-fourth Street 
and Yanderbilt Avenue. It is quite convenient to 
New Haven and is largely patronized by the stu- 
dents themselves on visits to the city, as well as 
by graduates and students on football and regatta 
nights. The New York Yacht Club, on Forty-fourth 
Street, has also a home that is very impressive, the 
exterior decorations being particularly notable. Its 
membership includes all the important private yacht 
owners in the city, which means, of course, almost 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 241 

a complete roster of the social register. Tlie Cen- 
tury Club, on Forty-third Street, is devoted to art 
and letters, as is also the Lotus, the National Arts 
and the Authors'. 

There are various clubs composed exclusively of 
artists, like the Salmagundi; of actors, like the 
Friars, the Lambs and the Players; of musicians, 
like the Harmonic, the Arion and the Liederkranz. 
There are also innumerable downtown clubs which 
exist merely for the luncheon hour and have no 
social life after that function is over. 

The women also play an important part in E'ew 
York club life, the Colony Club being one of their 
most influential and important. It has recently 
built a magnificent new club house in Park Avenue 
near Sixty-third Street at a cost of over a million 
dollars. There is also a women's university club 
at 105 East Fifty-second Street, Women's Municipal 
League, a Women's City Club, with headquarters 
in the new Yanderbilt Hotel, and a Pen and Brush 
Club, of which Miss Ida Tarbel is president. The 
Theatre Assembly, a new organization, Mrs. Chris- 
topher Marks, president, gives special attention to 
matters theatrical and discusses plays and players 
at its meetings, usually held in the Hotel Astor. 

Of the ordinary small club of no special impor- 
tance it may be said they exist almost in countless 
numbers. They are devoted to this thing and that. 
Some of them survive their teething period, but the 
infant mortality among them is high. Most of the 
clubs are located either on Fifth Avenue or on one 
of the side streets above Forty-second Street in close 
proximity to the avenue. Visitors may be put up 
for ten days on written recommendation of a mem- 



242 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

ber, and not a few have interchangeable courtesies 
among other clubs in different cities, whereby mem- 
bers may exchange hospitalities without the formal- 
ity of a card. 

The Catskill Aqueduct 
New Yorh's New Water Supply 

The enormous scale on which !N'ew York must 
operate in the matter of public utilities receives ad- 
ditional illustration in the cost of the new Catskill 
Aqueduct, which to date is over one hundred and 
sixty-seven millions of dollars, and when the work 
is finally completed another twenty-two millions 
will have to be added. It is so far the largest 
budget ever undertaken in the history of any muni- 
cipality in the world for a single work. This invest- 
ment, however, is so carefully planned that the rev- 
enue derived from the sale of water will be suffi- 
cient to pay off the water bonds issued against con- 
struction and in a comparatively few years all this 
immense outlay will have been returned to the city 
and become available for other purposes. The source 
of this new water supply lies 75 to 135 miles from 
the city in the mountainous regions of the Catskills. 
]Sro finer, cleaner or purer water is, therefore, ob- 
tainable anywhere in the country. 

The entire water shed embraced in this improve- 
ment is over 900 square miles in extent and includes 
the region known as Schoharie, Esopus and Asho- 
kan. The engineering triumphs achieved in bringing 
water down the Hudson Valley, across the Hudson 
Kiver beneath the waters of the river itself into 
the island of Manhattan, across the East Kiver to 



H 




Hudson Monument, Spuyten Duyvil Hill. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 245 

Brooklyn, and across New York Bay to Staten Isl- 
and have been brilliant in tbe highest degree. Gen. 
Goethals is authority for the statement that it was 
a much more difficult undertaking from an engi- 
neering point of view than the building of the 
Panama Canal. Construction operations have been 
in progress over eight years. 

The first introduction of running water into the 
city dates back only to 1842, when the Croton Aque- 
duct was built. The distributing reservoir for this 
water was on the corner occupied by the Public 
Library at Forty-second Street and Fifth Avenue. 
When the Croton system was enlarged this reser- 
voir was no longer needed and was discontinued. 
The present system provides a reserve reservoir at 
Kensico Dam, capable of storing enough water for 
fifty days under normal conditions. Nothing is so 
conducive to public health as a continuous supply 
of fine water. In this respect New York is abun- 
dantly blessed. 

Notwithstanding the enormous size of this under- 
taking, the work has been completed in advance of 
the date agreed upon, and the cost has been kept well 
within the amount originally set aside for it by the 
Board of Estimate and Apportionment. A number 
of leading citizens served the city for years on the 
water commission without recompense, and the 
splendid result is due largely to their disinterested 
efforts. Mr. Henry E. Towne, of the well-known 
Yale and Towne corporation, is entitled to special 
mention. The city is fortunate to have men of such 
unselfish devotion to public interests. Some idea of 
the magnitude of this work can be obtained by 
ascertaining the amount of money used by your own 



246 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

home town for the same purpose. The comparison 
will be startling. 

The Hudson Eiver an Adjunct of the City 

It was that eminent English jurist Lord Haldane 
who marvelled that so beautifully a river so close to 
such a large city was not more popular with our 
people than he divined the Hudson to be, judging 
from the plaucity of steamboats, yachts, etc., upon 
it. In this he was eminently right. The vast ma- 
jority of New Yorkers know nothing about the maj- 
esty and beauty of this wonderful river that lies 
right at our doors. Coney Island, that land of hot 
dogs and merry-go-rounds, with its noisy crowd, 
draws a thousand New Yorkers to one that visits 
the Hudson. 

Travellers who have been the world over declare 
the Hudson has not only no rival, but has nothing 
even approaching one. All along its crowded slopes 
nestle quaint little villages, some older than New 
York itself. For so unimportant a highway com- 
merce is strangely absent from its shores. In any 
European country such a natural and cheap method 
of communication would be black with sailing craft 
of all kinds, and huge derricks would be met with 
at frequent intervals. Nothing of the kind is to be 
seen on the Hudson. Aside from the few river boats 
that ply up and down daily, there is only to be seen 
an occasional brick schooner beating its way to the 
city or perhaps a long string of canal boats that 
have come from some point on the Erie Canal or 
Buffalo, and are slowly drifting to New York. Even 
the saucy tugboats that impart a wonderful scene 
of activity and bustle all over the bay are seldom 



i 




:^^ 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 249 

encountered farther up the river. Perhaps it is just 
as well. The river bank is almost wholly given up 
to magnificent private estates and sleepy little vil- 
lages. 

Passing Inwood, which marks the end of Man- 
hattan Island, we see just -across the river the mag- 
nificent New Interstate Palisade Park, which 
stretches in an unbroken line for nearly twenty miles 
along that most wonderful of all nature's creations 
— the Palisades of the Hudson. The States of New 
York and New Jersey united in the purchase of 
this magnificent playground for the people, and its 
acquisition accomplished a two-fold purpose — it not 
only added a park of rare natural beauty to the 
resources of the city, but it also preserved this most 
wonderful work of nature, the Palisades. Already 
stone crushers were busily engaged in making trap 
rock of this rare and priceless heritage, but that 
is now all stopped. And this marvellous creation of 
the glacier period, which has excited the wonder of 
people from all parts of the world, is now preserved 
to our country for all time. 

Passing the small opening that separates the State 
of New York from the city, we get in the distance 
a glimpse of "The King's Bridge" — ^the first con- 
nection between the island and the mainland. This 
bridge was erected shortly after the English cap- 
tured the city, and was bestowed by the king on 
one of his henchmen. All who came or left New 
York on the north had to pay toll to use the King's 
Bridge. Just beyond Spuyten Duyvil we pass the 
first of the numerous beautiful settlements for which 
the river is famous. Eiverdale is the first suburb 
out of New York to the north and is the home 



250 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

of many prominent business men, as George W. 
Perkins, Cleveland H. Dodge, Darwin P. Kingsley 
and other men prominent in the city's finance and 
business. 

At Tarrytown the river widens to almost four 
miles and forms a body of water called the Tappan 
Zee. (It is also quite deep here and when a sud- 
den squall comes across the mountains from back 
of Nyack — a frequent occurrence in summertime — 
it is apt to raise quite a good-sized commotion, the 
waves reaching an altogether unbelievable height.) 

After leaving the Tappan Zee we enter the south- 
ern gate of the Highlands and from now on the 
scenery beggars description. In about an hour we 
have passed Peekskill Bay and are at Bear Moun- 
tain Park, in the heart of the Highlands. This is 
another priceless boon conferred upon the people of 
IN'ew York in the shape of a great State park. This 
was made largely possible by the gift of over 10,000 
acres of land by Mrs. E. H. Harriman in memory 
of her great husband, E. Henry Harriman, the great 
railroad builder. Other land has been added, roads 
built through it and a number of public improve- 
ments added, including row boats, swings for the 
children and many other attractions. There is no 
more beautiful spot in the world than Bear Moun- 
tain Park, and when ITew Yorkers fully realize its 
attractiveness they will go there by the hundred 
thousands. As it is, the park is mainly enjoyed by 
motorists who travel long distances to dine at its 
admirable inns, and revel in its unsurpassed scenery. 
i 

After leaving Bear Mountain Park the steamer 
zig-zags out and in the winding road of the river. 




UN U^VUK 



FiMi Avenue, north from Fifty-fifth Street, Central Park in the dis- 
tance. Private residences stia abound but are rapidly disappearing^. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 253 

"We are now in the very heart of the Highlands and 
the scenery is beyond my feeble pen to describe. 
Sometimes the boat almost touches the shore, so 
close runs the channel to the bank. Presently we 
pass Highland Falls, where the late Mr. Morgan 
lived, and right above it is the far-famed United 
States Military Academy of West Point. Directly 
in front of the Academy is Constitution Island, a 
present to the government by Mrs. Russell Sage. 
Peyond the island the river widens out. The Crow's 
iNest and Storm King Mountain tower over the west 
bank, and Preak !N'eck and the Peacon Mountains 
over the east. As soon as the steamer emerges from 
the Highlands, the river opens into beautiful [Rew- 
burgh Pay, with Cornwall on the west bank. Polio- 
pel's Island in the centre of the river and the quaint 
city of Newburgh (26,000), county seat of Orange 
County, directly ahead. 

After leaving [N'ewburgh, the whole character of 
the landscape changes and the river flows through 
a most beautiful and prolific country, well wooded 
and undulating. 

The stately yacht we have just passed belongs to 
young Yincent Astor, whose ancestral home, Fern- 
cliffe, is just above Poughkeepsie at Rhinebeck. At 
Poughkeepsie, however, the trip ends for the day. 
We catch the down boat from Albany, which lands 
us in New York about eight o'clock, greatly rested 
and hugely delighted with all the beauties and won- 
ders we have seen. 

A Curious Pock About Old !N'ew York 
The Recent Revival of ''Valentine's Manual" 
Although the New Yorker as a rule is apparently 



254 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

not particularly interested in the history of his city, 
that is to a large extent merely his habitual indif- 
ference to matters which he considers personal to 
himself. As a matter of fact, New York is the 
only city in any country which supports an annual 
publication devoted only to the city's past. ^Nothing 
about the present appears in its pages, everything 
must have the sanctity of age before it is admis- 
sible to its columns. As books go, it is also ex- 
pensive — $5.00 per copy — yet it enjoys considerable 
circulation. If any of my readers are of an en- 
quiring turn of mind and would like to know how 
New York used to look, how its old social life was 
conducted, how it grew up — in short, all the items 
that would go to make a biography — let him look 
between the pages of the "Manual." 

The history of this unique publication strikes its 
roots also deep into the past. It was first published 
by the city itself in 1816 — a hundred years ago — 
as the "City Hall Directory." In 1840 it was en- 
larged and changed its name to the "Manual of the 
Corporation of the City of ISTew York." The city 
discontinued it in 1866 and it lay dormant for half 
a century. Last year a number of old New Yorkers 
got together and revived the ancient publication, 
giving it the name of the old editor, Valentine, who 
conducted the former series for the city from 1840 
to 1866 and gained much fame thereby. 

To those who have read "New York of To-day" 
and have antiquarian tastes, we can with safety 
suggest the "Manual" as the next addition to their 
library. Any bookstore has it. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 257 

!N'ew York in the Great World War of 1917 

The entrance of a great country into a war of 
such a serious character as the one now confronting 
us brought forth in New York one of the most 
patriotic demonstrations ever witnessed in the his- 
tory of the town. Flags, banners, streamers, badges, 
buttons and every device by which the national 
colors could be appropriately displayed were every- 
where in evidence. 

When the great war commissions appeared and 
Joffre, Yiviani and Balfour were actually in the 
streets, the Allied flags promptly made their appear- 
ance, and the effect was indescribably beautiful. 

Luncheons, dinners and every sort of public ap- 
preciation were lavished upon the distinguished visi- 
tors, and !N^ew York gave unmistakable evidence of 
her pro-Ally leanings. The main thoroughfares like 
Broadway, Wall Street, Fifth Avenue, the Battery, 
etc., were a living mass of color. Such a wealth 
of decoration never appeared before, and it will be 
a long day before it is repeated. So important did 
this seem to us that we have had a number of views 
specially painted in memory of this demonstration, 
which appear in all their brilliancy of color else- 
where in these pages. 

The views are by our own special artist. Miss 
Alice Heath. They will form an interesting souve- 
nir of a rare occasion and are worthy of careful 
preservation. 

The most important concession the "New Yorker 
has yet made to the war is to agree to go home not 
later than 1 A. M.. At least all cabarets, theatres, 
restaurants, etc., close at that hour, and when you 
deduct the time spent in rising when the Star 



258 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

Spangled Banner is played, you can readily see that 
the poor !N'ew Yorker is really quite a patriotic 
martyr. 

ISTevertheless, he is bearing up bravely and the 
outward sign of the city seems to indicate that 
"Business as Usual" is largely his guiding star in 
this crisis. 

After a great deal of criticism, as usual^ regard- 
ing New York's lack of patriotism, it was found 
that the city had largely over-subscribed her allot- 
ment of Liberty Bonds and the only city that did — 
as usual. 

The great American Red Cross work in the pres- 
ent war is now in the hands of a New Yorker, Henry 
P. Davison. A fund of a hundred million was 
raised, of which New York has more than furnished 
her quota. 




CHAPTEE XY 
HOW TO SEE THE CITY 

This business of showing strangers over the town 
in specially constructed motor busses has grown 
to be an important industry. All things consid- 
ered, it saves much time and effort, is quite sat- 
isfactory, and covers much ground comfortably. 
The lecturers could curb their cheap wit somewhat, 
in the interest of historical accuracy, as a great 
deal of the pleasure of a trip depends upon having 
the different places properly described. 

There are several companies with starting points 
at convenient places, and the points of interest 
they have selected is the result of close acquaintance 
with the city. 

There are two routes generally selected — one 
through the lower part of the city below Twenty- 
third Street, and the other north, or uptown. That 
through the lower part of the city gives a compre- 
261 



262 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

hensive view from Madison Square down Fifth Ave- 
nue and Broadway to Bowling Green, from which 
point a fine view is had of the Bay, the Statue of 
Liberty, the Aquarium, and the Battery. The finan- 
cial district. Stock Exchange, the Bowery, China- 
town, the Italian and Hebrew quarters and Brooklyn 
Bridge are seen on the way. The lecturer will call 
ou^; the different buildings as the car rolls along, 
giving a brief history of each, which adds much to 
the interest of the trip. 

There is also a trip around Manhattan Island by 
the sight-seeing yachts Observation and Tourist, 
which is of extreme interest and well worth making. 
The boats start from Battery Park Pier at 10.30 
A. M. and 2.30 P. M. daily, from May 1st to Novem- 
ber 1st. They sail up the East Biver, around the 
island, through the Harlem Ship Canal, down the 
Hudson, past the Palisades, Fort Washington, 
Grant^s Tomb and Riverside Park, revealing an un- 
expected number of interesting features of the ship- 
ping and commerce of New York as well as the 
gigantic Atlantic liners. 

Another trip starts from the above-mentioned 
pier at 1.15 P. M. daily, going down the Bay to 
Staten Island, past the Quarantine Station, Forts 
Hamilton, Wadsworth and LaFayette, through the 
Narrows to the Lower Bay, past Sandy Hook Light- 
ship and Fort Hancock. The yacht rounds the Sandy 
Hook Lightship (25 miles from Battery Pier), 
presenting an unequalled view of the entrance to 
New York Harbor. On the way back to the city a 
good view is given of famous Coney Island, Brighton 
and Manhattan beaches. As in the case of the motor 
busses, here again the lecturer could improve his 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 265 

work by heeding the advice given in another page 
to his confreres on land. 

Ascent of the "Woolworth Tower 

One of the real genuine unique sensations that 
may be enjoyed in I^ew York is a veritable aeroplane 
trip with none of the dangers of the real thing. "We 
refer to a visit to the tower of the Woolworth Build- 
ing, about eight hundred feet up in the air. It 
is an experience long to be remembered and will 
give you something really interesting to talk about 
for the rest of your days. There's a charge of fifty 
cents for the privilege, and it is money well spent. 
The ascent is made in regular passenger elevators 
to the thirty-eighth floor, from which point you 
change to another set of elevators that carry you 
the remaining distance to the sixtieth story. What 
happens when you step out on to the balcony of the 
tower and gaze at the city in the distance below is 
something that is not easily described. If the weather 
happens to be one of those wonderfully beautiful 
days, clear and without a cloud in the sky, as so 
frequently happens in ISTew York, the scene is be- 
wildering. There is first an uncanny quietness all 
about you — the roar and the noise of Broadway have 
completely disappeared. The streets that seemed 
packed with people now seem to have quite consid- 
erable patches of space between the crowds, and the 
figures are dwarfed till they look like little ants 
running hither and thither. 

When you realize the great distance between you 
and the sidewalk you will hardly believe that when 
the tower was in the process of building workmen 
would get into the "block and fall" that was used 



266 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

to hoist up tlie iron beams, and by this means lower 
themselves to the sidewalks. This happened nearly 
every noontime and always drew a crowd. The air 
up here is always blowing half a gale. The whole 
country for many miles is plainly seen — the Bay, the 
ISTarrows and the broad Atlantic to the south; the 
Hudson River, Orange and Eamapo Mountains to 
the west; Long Island Sound and the beautiful 
country beyond, Rockaway, Coney Island and Long 
Beach to the east, while northward the crowded 
heights of Westchester and the Bronx stand out in 
plain relief. There is no point of land on or near 
New York anywhere nearly so high as the Wool- 
worth Tower, and nothing approaching this won- 
derful panorama is to be had anywhere. The nov- 
elty is a great attraction, and it is safe to say that 
this experience will ever remain one of the most 
interesting recollections of your visit to New York. 
Other high places are the Metropolitan Tower on 
Madison Square, very nearly but not quite so high 
as the Woolworth; the World Building, and the 
Whitehall Building, at the very end of the city, 
facing Battery Park. From the latter building a 
close view of the harbor and the transatlantic 
shipping is had, and the Statue of Liberty, Ellis 
Island, Governor's Island and Fort Hamilton guard- 
ing the entrance of the Narrows are clearly and 
distinctly seen. These places are all worth a visit 
and will well repay you for the time it takes. 

Women Who Travel Alone — 

Notwithstanding the lurid posters that dot the 
country landscape depicting the perils of the beauti- 
ful girl alone in our great city, it still remains a 



>. i2.^«^ 



^^. 




NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 269 

fact that New York is tlie best village in the Union 
for women travelling alone. And there is absolutely 
no comparison in this respect between it and Con- 
tinental cities. 

All this boastful talk about the superior culture 
of Europe is the most arrant nonsense. Ask any 
woman who has travelled abroad and she will tell 
you that it is almost equivalent to wearing the 
scarlet letter to walk the streets of London, Paris or 
Berlin at night. 'New York is not perfect, but it 
is little Miss Innocence personified compared with 
those towns, and any woman who encounters un- 
pleasant situations in our city has, to a very large 
extent, her own self to blame for it. Nevertheless, 
a certain amount of caution is necessary. Common 
sense is still a valuable possession and should not be 
left at home while travelling. Certain unwritten 
laws must be obeyed, one of which is that two 
women together are practically immune from em- 
barrassing experiences, while the solitary visitor is 
more exposed, especially if the hour is late and you 
happen to be in certain localities. 

Abundant protection is afforded the inexperienced 
young woman on every hand. Almost immediately 
upon arrival representatives of the Y. W. C. A. will 
direct her to suitable and respectable boarding 
houses, while the foreign emigrant has at her dis- 
posal any of half a dozen institutions to see that 
she is properly cared for. In spite of all these pre- 
cautions, however, some sad happenings are matters 
of frequent record, most of which are mainly pre- 
ventable. A very good rule is to pursue about the 
same line of conduct you would at home. You do 
not permit strangers to become familiar, and when 



270 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

you want information yon ask a policeman. Do the 
same here. It is useless to provide bureaus of in- 
formation, uniformed attendants and other conven- 
iences if the stranger will calmly ignore them. 

Living in Hotels 

It is not enough to pick out a hotel in advance by 
name only. You must also know the exact street 
number. There are frequently two places of the 
same name or very similar, but of an entirely differ- 
ent character. Also some hotels do not care to re- 
ceive women unescorted at a late hour unless reser- 
vation has been made in advance. These, however, 
are so few as to be almost negligible. ISTone of the 
first-class hotels in the vicinity of the Grand Central 
Terminal would think of such a discourtesy, and 
one of them has an entire floor reserved exclusively 
for women. The Martha Washington is wholly pa- 
tronized by women and is open all night. This is the 
one hotel in which the lords of creation may not 
enter beyond the parlor floor. 

There are accommodations at all sorts of prices, 
and if the length of your stay is at all dependent 
upon your pocketbook you can arrange accordingly. 
Yery few hotels include meals with the price of 
the room. You are expected to eat where you choose. 
This is much the better, as you need not return to 
the hotel till bedtime, if you so desire. You are 
very apt to be quite a distance from it at luncheon, 
for instance, and the time lost returning would be 
considerable. 

A room with bath in a good hotel centrally located 
can be had from $2 to $3 a day. Without bath $1.50 
to $2.50. The hotels of international reputation. 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 271 

like the Waldorf, Biltmore, Astor, etc., are about 
double those figures for an ordinary room; but, of 
course, there is practically no limit to what you 
may pay for ^ special suite. Dining at these hotels 
is on an equally expensive scale; but the service is 
good, the surroundings are enjoyable, the music and 
dancing very entertaining. All this adds to the 
expense of the food, and your share is included in 
the check which is handed you at the conclusion of 
your repast. 

Life in these wonderful hotels is as much a 
source of amusement as any other attraction in 
ISTew York, and to those to whom it is unfamiliar 
the indulgence is well worth the cost. It certainly 
permits a glimpse of cosmopolitan l^ew York at its 
best, and to many persons is far more interesting 
than the average theatre. 

But you can hire a furnished room in a good 
neighborhood for about $6 a week, dine at Child's, 
or any one of a hundred good reasonably priced 
restaurants, and then walk through the big hotels 
afterwards. You can even go into the writing room 
and send a letter home on the hotel's richly crested 
stationery if you wish, and no one will object. You 
can also buy a two-cent stamp for two cents, but 
a one-cent evening paper will cost you two cents, 
so watch your step. 

Travel m the City 

Seriously speaking, there is no necessity for reck- 
less extravagance simply because you happen to 
be in New York. There are lots of other people 
here, too, and they live in it all the time, and man- 
age to get along quite comfortably on moderate 



272 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

incomes. In addition to a dollar a day for a room, 
there are numerous moderate-priced restaurants 
where a good meal can be had for from forty to fifty 
cents. Travel in IsTew York is not only cheap, but 
it is very rapid, and a taxi is not at all necessary. 
The subway will take you within a few blocks of 
anywhere, and the fare is only five cents even if 
you ride to the end of its fifteen miles. There is no 
city in the world where transportation is so good, 
and between ten and four the cars are not uncom- 
fortably crowded. With a little care the rush 
hours— between 7.30 and 9.30 A. M. and 4.80 to 7 
in the evening — can be avoided. 

Another very delightful and inexpensive way of 
seeing the city is from the top of a Fifth Avenue 
bus. This line traverses our most noted thorough- 
fare through its busiest and most interesting length. 
The fare is ten cents, and is about the best ten 
cents* worth you will get during your stay. 
The routes vary in direction from Millionaires* Row, 
east of Central Park, to Grant's Tomb, on Riverside 
Drive. It is a comfortable ride and not a dull mo- 
ment in it. 




CHAPTEE XYI 



ISLES OF RECREATION 



It is quite impossible in a book of ordinary size to 
speak at length of all tbe features of New York that 
are more or less of interest. Miss Florence Levy for 
instance publishes an entire work on the Art that is 
to be seen in the city alone. The Municipal Art 
Commission also has a special volume that describes 
all the public monuments, paintings, etc. that belong 
to the corporation. And a brief mention of all 
treasures that exist in the "New York Historical So- 
ciety, the Museum of IN^atural History, the Metro- 
politan Museum of Art, the Aquarium, the Geo- 
graphical Society, the new Indian Society, Heye 
Foundation, the Aquarium, the Zoological collection 
in Bronx Park, to say nothing of the dozens of vari- 
ous other organizations more or less available to the 
writer — ^would alone call for not one volume, but 
several. In this connection Mr. Fremont Rider has 
275 



276 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

rendered tlie city a signal service in compiling all 
this informatipn in a book of handy size and in it 
he has given, with a wealth of detail, particulars re- 
garding material to be found in each of the institu- 
tions just mentioned, and the reader who desires 
fuller details will find this work of the greatest 
value. 

Before closing my own effort, however, I would 
like to speak for a moment of the great work that 
has been done by our city in providing breathing 
spaces for its congested population. It is no easy 
matter to maintain the health and energy of a pop' 
ulation, nearing six millions, and in the provision 
and splendid maintainance of nearly half a hun- 
dred parks, New York has shown herself not un- 
mindful of the responsibility that rests upon her in 
this direction. With possibly one exception there is 
no larger park in any city in the world than the 
one that^s here, directly in the centre of Manhat- 
tan Island — Central Park (873 acres) — and none is 
more beautifully laid out as to walks, trees, shrub- 
bery, lakes, lawns and playgrounds. Large areas are 
set aside for public amusement, and all sorts of out- 
door sports are constantly in evidence. This partic- 
ular park, lying as it does in the very heart of the 
city, is the one most convenient to visitors and is 
also the most popular for the residents. It extends 
from 59th Street to 110th Street, and lies between 
5th and 8th Avenues. The east (5th Avenue) side 
of the park is probably the seat of more millionaire 
residences than any other thoroughfare in the world, 
regardless of length; and a list of the owners of 
these mansions would contain more names, begin- 
ning with Astor and ending with Carnegie, that 




iiwfttiA^ 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 279 

are nationally known, tlian any other street in the 
country. The west side, called Central Park West, 
is also distinguished for the imposing architecture 
which lines it to the end. These, however, are of 
a different character from the east side, being apart- 
ment houses of the most expensiye and luxurious 
kind. The combination imparts to this section of 
]^ew York a very desirable and attractive atmos- 
phere. Both streets are remote from subways and 
elevateds and enjoy a degree of repose that is un- 
usual in busy New York. 

Bronx Park, 719 acres; Van Cortlandt, 1,132 
acres, and Pelham Bay Park, 1,756 acres are not on 
Manhattan Island proper, lying in the northern sec- 
tion of the city. Two of these are much larger than 
Central Park and in some respects more de- 
sirable. Van Cortlandt has golf links and a won- 
derful lake; Bronx has the Zoo, which is now far 
more complete than any similar collection (since 
the war) in the world. The botanical gardens in the 
Bronx are also of extraordinary beauty and the land- 
scape effects in every direction are of wonderful 
scope. If time permits— and it is speedily reached 
by the subway — a visit is well worth the time. 

Stretching across the Bronx east is a magnificent 
boulevard called Pelham Parkway, which connects 
the Bronx with our newest and most novel park — 
Pelham Bay. E'ovel because a park with nearly 
eight miles of salt water shore front is something 
unusual in parks, and that is what Pelham has.^ It 
fronts directly on the sound and provides boating, 
bathing and fishing. All sorts of swings, sand pits, 
merry-go-rounds, etc., are also provided for the chil- 
dren, and it is certainly a great credit to the city. 



280 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

All these parks are within easy travelling distance, 
and the fare is only 5 cents, though the distance is 
fully fifteen to twenty miles. 

In the lower part of the more densely populated 
sections of the city innumerable small parks abound, 
affording ample opportunity for rest and recreation. 
These are scattered about everywhere and several 
have frontages on the Bay, the East and the North 
Rivers. In addition to these there are numerous rec- 
reation piers stretching far out over the cool waters 
of the river and providing much needed breezes on 
hot summer nights. Public swimming baths for both 
sexes are plentiful and are conveniently located for 
the people who use them. They are not necessarily 
confined to the water front. Aside from these pub- 
lic places of recreation there are many delightful re- 
sorts, nearly all of which are easily reached and 
which afford much pleasure for small outlay. There 
are of course many more pretentious places dotted 
along the Jersey shore and the ocean front of Long 
Island which are available for a short excursion, but 
are of course of a much more expensive character. 
Long Beach, Bockaway, Long Branch, Atlantic City, 
would come within my meaning. 

Coney Island 

But the great crowds go to Coney Island — not 
more than forty minutes from City Hall, and rank- 
ing among one of the most popular resorts near a 
great city in the world. It fronts directly on the 
ocean. The bathing is a great attraction and there 
is generally a cool breeze blowing. A portion of 
the beach is now a public park. The place is so 
well known that it is worth a more lengthy descrip- 





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NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 283 

tion, as it is undoubtedly one of the sights of 'New 
York. 

The incomparable surf bathing, the limitless op- 
portunities for innocent amusement, the novelty 
and excitement of many of its pleasures, its good- 
natured crowds^ and above all the invigorating 
breezes that sweep over its terrain, all these con- 
tribute to make it a delight and joy to people who 
live in towns far removed from the sea and from 
the movement and life which can only be found in 
large communities. Coney Island and all the other 
beaches of New York are easily and comfortably 
reached by subways and street cars at the very mod- 
erate cost of a street car ride, or where two lines are 
necessary an extra nickel. The time consumed is 
not more than from an hour to an hour and a half, 
according to route selected. The trip itself by any 
route is delightful and many people prefer the reg- 
ular street cars, which are open to the breezes and 
pass through interesting parts of the city, before 
reaching the beautiful undulating country beyond. 

Most of the street car lines starting from the 
Brooklyn Bridge run direct to Coney, or transfer to 
some line in Brooklyn going there, but the quickest 
and most direct route is by the elevated from the 
bridge, leaving every few minutes and every other 
train express. This makes a delightful trip, as the 
cars are open and the route is through the beau- 
tiful suburb of Flatbush — the most beautiful, some 
authorities say, of any in the United States. It is 
a run of 45 minutes and lands you right on the edge 
of the Atlantic Ocean. The things that you do 
and the things that you see at Coney Island are so 
varied and exciting that any description of them 



284 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

must necessarily be tame and insufficient. They 
must be experienced to be fully appreciated, but they 
are all well worth what they cost. A very delightful 
route to Coney Island is by boat. Sailing down the 
North River from 129th Street and touching at 23rd 
Street and at Pier 1, near the Battery, at all of 
which stops a crowd of holiday seekers pour into the 
commodious steamer, we get a splendid view of the 
docks and shipping of New York with the tall build- 
ings in the background, and the ever-changing 
scenes of river traffic on our right, and as we pilot 
our way into the bay the historic Governor's Island 
appears on our left and the famous Statue of Lib- 
erty on our right. Passing these landmarks we sail 
along the beautiful shore of Bay Ridge — another 
Brooklyn suburb — ^with its fine residences and its 
splendidly built Shore Road stretching all the way 
down to Fort Hamilton and the Narrows. At this 
point we emerge into the ocean and get a taste of 
the ocean breezes at first hand, and if our voyager 
is at all languid from the effects of the heat, or in- 
deed from any cause, the oxygen of the Atlantic 
transforms him, in an incredibly short time, into a 
most lively and vivacious pleasure seeker. Before 
reaching the great pier at Coney Island, we are 
likely to pass many craft like our own, plying to and 
from different points with their happy freight of 
human beings enjoying nature's great gift of out of 
doors. 

The Rockaways and Jamaica Bay 

Some of these crafts will likely be the Rockaway 
steamers, which also carry great numbers to that 
popular beach. Next to Coney Island, Rockaway 



NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 285 

Beach is the most attractive of all the nearby resorts 
and in some respects it is even more delightful than 
its famous neighbor. The boats are plying back and 
forth all day long and the trip by water is a most 
invigorating and pleasant one. To those who go to 
Rockaway by train the fishing stations on Jamaica 
Bay, just before reaching your destination, present 
a curious and rather perplexing puzzle of winding 
water ways, zig-zagging and crossing each other in 
an interminable maze. But the fishermen who fre- 
quent these perplexing waters know all the outs and 
ins, the deeps and shallows, the currents and eddies 
of this most strange fishing ground. The sensation 
of crossing this bay is peculiar. You wonder whether 
you are on land or water. Besides Rockaway Beach 
itself, where the crowds go, there is the beautiful 
Rockaway Park, a few miles farther west on the 
beach — a quiet and select place. And in the other 
direction there is the fashionable Far Rockaway 
with its incomparable stretch of sandy beach, and 
Arverne with its many fine residences. 

For any one who likes a trolley ride through the 
country, a very pleasant way to return from Far 
Rockaway is to take the trolley car which starts 
from near the station and crosses the island to Ja- 
maica. There the street car or elevated may be 
taken to New York. The trip this way consumes 
more than two hours, but is most enjoyable and gives 
the traveller a view of a very fine suburban part of 
Brooklyn and of the village of Jamaica, which al- 
ready promises to become an important railroad cen- 
tre for the Pennsylvania and Long Island systems. 
Jamaica itseK is a residential section of Brooklyn, 
which is growing very fast and is building up with 



286 NEW YORK OF TO-DAY 

handsome residences. From here car lines run to 
Flushing, Corona, College Point, and thence back 
to Kew York by Queensborough Bridge. 

Sandy Hook and Back 

For a purely ocean trip nothing can surpass the 
sail to Sandy Hook and back. It matters not how 
the temperature may be on land, old ocean never 
fails to roll and toss and blow to anyone's heart's 
content. The swift and smart little steamers that 
ply between the city from the foot of Liberty Street 
to the Atlantic Highlands usually carry a full pas- 
senger list, and very many of them are New York- 
ers, who are just taking an outing of a couple of 
hours to brace themselves for business for the rest 
of the day. Many of them do not leave the boat 
at Sandy Hook, but come right back. All they want 
is the ocean breezes and the invigorating effect of 
real deep sea sailing. And here it is to the Queen's 
taste. It is a trip which recreates a man, and all in 
a few hours. To those who have plenty of time, a 
walk along the shore or up on the bluff is very de- 
lightful. And from the landing, trains run to all 
the resorts on the Jersey Shore as far as Long 
Branch, Asbury Park and Ocean Grove. This is the 
favored route for the business man whose summer 
house is at one of these fashionable resorts and who 
makes the trip daily. During the summer months 
automobiles leave the landing on arrival of the boats 
for all of these points at very moderate rates, giv- 
ing the tourist a splendid opportunity to view the 
beautiful landscape and admire the magnificent 
homes and estates all along the route. 




LOWER-4i/ \*JHATTAN FROM BROOKLYN BRIDGE SOUTH, AS IT APPEARED IN 1876, — 
LOWER MANHATTAN FROM BROOKLYN BRIDGE SOUTH— SAME VIEW-AS IT APPEARS IN 1917. 






] 



NEW YORK OF TO-UAY 287 

I have tried in this little book to give you some- 
think of a bird's-eye view of what is now the world's 
largest city. I am only too well aware of the fact 
that much could be added. !N'or is it possible to 
write anything about "New York of To-day," and 
have it strictly accurate a year hence. Changes are 
going on all the time. They appear with incredible 
swiftness and in quarters least expected. That is 
why I hope to revise this book each year and thus 
keep it always abreast of the times. New pictures 
in particular will be a special feature. 



New York Weekly JOURNAL 

Vol. I Jan. 15, 1733. No. i 

New York: Printed and sold by John Peter Zenger at 
the printing office in Stone Street, by whom subscrip- 
tions for the paper are taken at three shillings per 
quarter and advertisements at three shillings the first 
week and one shilling each week after. 



Perhaps the most interesting chapter in the history 
of Colonial New York is John Peter Zenger's wonder- 
ful fight for the freedom of the Press. 

Beginning in his second issue, he at once commenced 
that constant criticism of the authorities which was 
to end in his arrest for libel, sedition and treason. No 
more spectacular trial was ever held in this city. Four 
of the most obnoxious numbers of his Journal, Nos. 2, 
7, 42, 44, 45, 47, 48 and 49, were ordered to be publicly 
burned by the hangman, Oct. 19, 1734. 

I propose to reproduce these five issues in exactly 
the style of the originals, from excessively rare origi- 
nals now in possession of the NEW YORK HIS- 
TORICAL SOCIETY. 

The first and fourth pages will be facsimiles of the 
old style printing; but the second and third will contain 
a running commentary on the events which led up to 
the controversy as we now understand them. 

I shall add several numbers in addition to the 
"burned" set, making twelve in all. They will be bound 
in flexible covers and the entire series will be sold for 
£2. 10. 6. ($12.00). Ready Dec. 1, 1917. 

An interesting sidelight will be thrown on many 
events of the Revolution in the comments and para- 
graphs appearing on the inside pages, ^ and the work 
ought to be of the highest educational importance. 

Mail subscriptions to Henry Collins Brown, Editor 
Valentine's Manual, 15 East 40th St., New York City. 



